••»—/  ^y 


THE    PARISH    CLERK 


THE   PARISH   CLERK 

I)Y  THOMAS   GAINSBOROUGH,  R.A. 


THE  PARISH  CLERK 


BY 


P.    H.    DITCHFIELD 

M.A.,  F.S.A. 


WITH   THIRTY-ONE    ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW  YORK 
E.   P.   BUTTON   AND   COMPANY 

31  WEST  TWENTY-THIRD  STREET 
1907 


15295 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I.     OLD-TIME  CHOIRS  AND  PARSONS 


II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI 

XXII. 

XXIII. 


THE  ANTIQUITY  AND  CONTINUITY  OF  THE  OFFICE  OF 

CLERK 16 

THE  MEDIAEVAL  CLERK 31 

His  DUTIES  OF  READING  AND  SINGING  ....  48 

THE  CLERK  IN  LITERATURE 63 

CLERKS  TOO  CLERICAL  —  SMUGGLING   DAYS  AND 

SMUGGLING  WAYS 79 

THE  CLERK  IN  EPITAPH 90 

THE  WORSHIPFUL  COMPANY  OF  PARISH  CLERKS    .        .  104 

THE  CLERKS  OF  LONDON  :  THEIR  DUTIES  AND  PRIVILEGES  1 15 
CLERKENWELL  AND  CLERKS'  PLAYS          .        .        .        .130 

THE  CLERKS  AND  THE  PARISH  REGISTERS      .        .        .  140 

THE  CLERK  AS  A  POET 154 

THE  CLERK  GIVING  OUT  NOTICES 169 

•  i79 


SLEEPY  CHURCH  AND  SLEEPY  CLERKS    .... 

THE  CLERK  IN  ART 

WOMEN  AS  PARISH  CLERKS      ...... 

SOME  YORKSHIRE  CLERKS 

AN  OLD  CHESHIRE  CLERK  AND  SOME  OTHER  WORTHIES 

THE  CLERK  AND  THE  LAW 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  CLERKS  AND  THEIR  WAYS 

CURIOUS  STORIES 

LONGEVITY  AND  HEREDITY — THE  DEACON-CLERKS  OF 

BARNSTAPLE   .    •    «       .  *       .        . 

CONCLUSION 


201 
206 
225 
245 
255 
306 

318 

333 


INDEX 335 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


THE  PARISH  CLERK.     By  Thomas  Gainsborough,  R.A.       .         Frontispiece 

From  the  original  in  the  National  Gallery 

PAGE 

THE  VILLAGE  CHOIR.     By  Thomas  Webster 8 

From  the  original  in  the  Victoria  and  Albert  Museum 

THE  MEDIAEVAL  CLERK  :  THE  CLERK  IN  PROCESSION     ...       18 

From  old  engravings 

THE  CLERK  BEARING  HOLY  WATER  AND  ASPERGING  THE  COOK, 
AND  OTHERS 28 

From  old  engravings 

THE  OLD  CHURCH-HOUSES  AT  HURST  AND  UFFINGTON,  BERKS  .      42 

By  permission  of  Messrs.  G.  J.  Palmer  and  Sons 

THE  CLERK  AND  PRIEST  VISITING  THE  SICK  AND  ADMINISTERING 
THE  LAST  SACRAMENT 46 

By  permission  of  the  S.P.C.K. 

OLD  BECKENHAM  CHURCH.    By  David  Cox 60 

Front  the  drawing  at  the  Tate  Gallery 

OLD  SCARLETT  .98 

From  "  The  Book  of  Days  " 

By  permission  oj  Messrs.  W.  and  R.  Chambers,  Ltd. 

ENTRANCE  TO  THE  HALL  OF  THE  COMPANY  OF  PARISH  CLERKS  .     104 
THE  MASTER'S  CHAIR  AT  THE  PARISH  CLERKS'  HALL   .        .        .     106 

PORTRAIT  OF  WILLIAM  ROPER,  SON-IN-LAW  AND  BIOGRAPHER  OF 
SIR  THOMAS  MORE,  BENEFACTOR  OF  THE  CLERKS'  COMPANY  .  no 

THE  GRANT  OF  ARMS  TO  THE  COMPANY  OF  PARISH  CLERKS        .     in 

STAINED  GLASS  WINDOW  AT  THE  HALL  OF  THE  PARISH  CLERKS' 
COMPANY,  SHOWING  PORTRAITS  OF  JOHN  CLARKE  AND  STEPHEN 
PENCKHURST 112 

A  PAGE  OF  THE  BEDE  ROLL  OF  THE  PARISH  CLERKS'  COMPANY  .     114 

vii 


viii  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

PAGE 

THE  ORGAN  AT  THE  PARISH  CLERKS'  HALL 121 

A  PAGE  OF  AN  EARLY  BILL  OF  MORTALITY  PRESERVED  AT  THE 
HALL  OF  THE  PARISH  CLERKS'  COMPANY 122 

INTERIOR  OF  THE  HALL  OF  THE  PARISH  CLERKS'  COMPANY         .     126 

PORTRAIT  OF  JOHN  CLARKE,  PARISH  CLERK  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF 
ST.  MICHAEL,  CORNHILL 128 

OLD  MAP  OF  CLERKENWELL .     130 

A  MYSTERY  PLAY  AT  CHESTER 132 

From  a  print  after  a.  painting  by  T.  Uwins 

THE  DESCENT  INTO  HELL        .        .        .  .        .        ."      .     136 

From  William  Hones  "Ancient  Mysteries"  ' 

THE  SLEEPING  CONGREGATION.     By  W.  Hogarth     ....     182 

From  an  engraving  at  the  British  Museum 

THE  CLERK  ATTENDING  THE  PRIEST  AT  HOLY  BAPTISM       .        .     196 

By  permission  af  the  S.P.C.K. 

THE  DUTIES  OF  A  CLERK  AT  A  DEATH  AND  FUNERAL  .        .        .     198 

By  pet  mission  of  the  S.P.C.K. 

THE  VICAR  OF  WAKEFIKLD.    By  W.  P.  Frith 199 

From  a  photograph  by  Messrs.  W.  A.  MansellandCo. 

PORTRAIT  OF  RICHARD  HUST,  THE  RESTORER  OF  THE  CLERKS' 
ALMSHOUSES 200 

THE  CHURCH  OF  ST.  MARGARET,  WESTMINSTER     .        .        .        .210 

After  an  engraving  from  a  photograph  by  Messrs.  W.  A.  MansellandCo. 

WILLIAM  HINTON,  A  WILTSHIRE  WORTHY.      Drawn  by  the  Rev. 

Julian  Charles  Young 239 

By  permission  of  Messrs.  Macmillan  and  Co. 

SUNDAY  MORNING.     By  John  Absolon 270 

From  a  photograph  by  Messrs.  W.  A.  MansellandCo. 

THK  PARISH  CLERK  OF  QUEDGELEY         ....  280 

By  permission  of  Miss  Isabel  Bar  net  t 

JAMFS  CARNE,  PARISH  CLERK  OF  ST.  COLUMB  MINOR,  CORNWALL, 
THE  OLDEST  LIVING  CLERK 320 

From  a  photograph  by  Mr.  R.  P.  Griffith,  Newquay 


PREFACE 


THE  race  of  parish  clerks  is  gradually  becoming 
extinct.  Before  the  recollection  of  their  quaint 
ways,  their  curious  manners  and  customs,  has  quite 
passed  away,  it  has  been  thought  advisable  to  collect  all 
that  can  be  gathered  together  concerning  them.  Much 
light  has  in  recent  years  been  thrown  upon  the  history 
of  the  office.  The  learned  notes  appended  to  Dr. 
Wickham  Legg's  edition  of  The  Parish  Clerk's  Book, 
published  by  the  Henry  Bradshaw  Society,  Dr. 
Atchley's  Parish  Clerk  and  his  Right  to  Read  the 
Liturgical  Epistle  (Alcuin  Club  Tracts),  and  other 
works,  give  much  information  with  regard  to  the  anti- 
quity of  the  office,  and  to  the  duties  of  the  clerk  of 
mediaeval  times  ;  and  from  these  books  I  have  derived 
much  information.  By  the  kindness  of  many  friends 
and  of  many  correspondents  who  are  personally  un- 
known to  me,  I  have  been  enabled  to  collect  a  large 
number  of  anecdotes,  recollections,  facts,  and  bio- 
graphical sketches  of  many  clerks  in  different  parts  of 
England,  and  I  am  greatly  indebted  to  those  who  have 
so  kindly  supplied  me  with  so  much  valuable  informa- 
tion. Many  of  the  writers  are  far  advanced  in  years, 
when  the  labour  of  putting  pen  to  paper  is  a  sore 
burden.  I  am  deeply  grateful  to  them  for  the  trouble 
which  they  kindly  took  in  recording  their  recollections 


x  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

of  the  scenes  of  their  youth.  I  have  been  much  amused 
by  the  humorous  stories  of  old  clerkly  ways,  by  the 
facetue  which  have  been  sent  to  me,  and  I  have  been 
much  impressed  by  the  records  of  faithful  service  and 
devotion  to  duty  shown  by  many  holders  of  the  office 
who  won  the  esteem  and  affectionate  regard  of  both 
priest  and  people.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  publish 
the  names  of  all  those  who  have  kindly  written  to  me, 
but  I  wish  especially  to  thank  the  Rev.  Canon  Venables, 
who  first  suggested  the  idea  of  this  work,  and  to  whom 
it  owes  its  conception  and  initiation  ;a  to  the  Rev.  B.  D. 
Blyn-Stoyle,  to  Mr.  F.  W.  Hackwood,  the  Rev. 
W.  V.  Vickers,  the  Rev.  W.  Selwyn,  the  Rev.  E.  H. 
L.  Reeve,  the  Rev.  W.  H.  Langhorne,  Mr.  E.  J. 
Lupson,  Mr.  Charles  Wise,  and  many  others,  who 
have  taken  a  kindly  interest  in  the  writing  of  this  book. 
I  have  also  to  express  my  thanks  to  the  editors  of  the 
Treasury  and  of  Pearson's  Magazine  for  permission  to 
reproduce  portions  of  some  of  the  articles  which  I  con- 
tributed to  their  periodicals,  to  the  editor  of  Chambers^ 
Journal  for  the  use  of  an  article  on  some  north-country 
clerics  and  their  clerks  by  a  writer  whose  name  is  un- 
known to  me,  and  to  the  Rev.  J.  Gaskell  Exton  for 
sending  to  me  an  account  of  a  Yorkshire  clerk  which, 
by  the  kindness  of  the  editor  of  the  Yorkshire  Weekly 
Post,  I  am  enabled  to  reproduce. 


1  Since  the  above  was  written,  and  while  this  book  has  been  passing- 
through  the  press,  the  venerable  clergyman,  Canon  Venables,  has  been 
called  away  from  earth.  A  zealous  parish  priest,  a  voluminous  writer, 
a  true  friend,  he  will  be  much  missed  by  all  who  knew  him.  Some 
months  ago  he  sent  me  some  recollections  of  his  early  days,  of  the 
clerks  he  had  known,  and  his  reflections  on  his  long-  ministry,  and  these 
have  been  recorded  in  this  book,  and  will  now  have  a  pathetic  interest 
for  his  many  friends  and  for  all  who  admired  his  noble,  earnest,  and 
strenuous  life. 


THE   PARISH    CLERK 

CHAPTER   I 
OLD-TIME   CHOIRS   AND   PARSONS 

A  REMARKABLE  feature  in  the  conduct  of  our 
A\.  modern  ecclesiastical  services  is  the  disappear- 
ance and  painless  extinction  of  the  old  parish  clerk 
who  figured  so  prominently  in  the  old-fashioned  ritual 
dear  to  the  hearts  of  our  forefathers.  The  Oxford 
Movement  has  much  to  answer  for  !  People  who  have 
scarcely  passed  the  rubicon  of  middle  life  can  recall 
the  curious  scene  which  greeted  their  eyes  each  Sunday 
morning  when  life  was  young,  and  perhaps  retain  a 
tenderness  for  old  abuses,  and,  like  George  Eliot, 
have  a  lingering  liking  for  nasal  clerks  and  top-booted 
clerics,  and  sigh  for  the  departed  shades  of  vulgar 
errors. 

Then  and  now — the  contrast  is  great.  Then  the 
hideous  Georgian  "  three-decker  "  reared  its  monstrous 
form,  blocking  out  the  sight  of  the  sanctuary;  immense 
pews  like  cattle-pens  filled  the  nave.  The  woodwork 
was  high  and  panelled,  sometimes  richly  carved,  as  at 
Whalley  Church,  Lancashire,  where  some  pews  have 
posts  at  the  corners  like  an  old-fashioned  four-posted 
bed.  Sometimes  two  feet  above  the  top  of  the  wood- 
work there  were  brass  rods  on  which  slender  curtains 


2  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

ran,  and  were  usually  drawn  during  sermon  time  in 
order  that  the  attention  of  the  occupants  of  the  pew 
might  not  be  distracted  from  devout  meditations  on  the 
preacher's  discourse— or  was  it  to  woo  slumber?  A 
Berkshire  dame  rather  admired  these  old-fashioned 
pews,  wherein,  as  she  naively  expressed  it,  "a  body 
might  sleep  comfortable  without  all  the  parish  knowin' 
on  it." 

It  was  of  such  pews  that  Swift  wrote  in  his  Baucis 
and  Philemon  : 

"A  bedstead  of  the  antique  mode, 
Compact  of  timber  many  a  load, 
Such  as  our  ancestors  did  use 
Was  metamorphosed  into  pews  ; 
Which  still  their  ancient  nature  keep 
By  lodging  folks  disposed  to  sleep." 

The  squire's  pew  was  a  wondrous  structure,  with  its 
own  special  fire-place,  the  fire  in  which  the  old  gentle- 
man used  to  poke  vigorously  when  the  parson  was  too 
long  in  preaching.  It  was  amply  furnished,  this  squire's 
pew,  with  arm-chairs  and  comfortable  seats  and  stools 
and  books.  Such  a  pew  all  furnished  and  adorned  did 
a  worthy  clerk  point  out  to  the  witty  Bishop  of  Oxford, 
Bishop  Wilberforce,  with  much  pride  and  satisfaction. 
"  If  there  be  ought  your  lordship  can  mention  to  mak' 
it  better,  I'm  sure  Squire  will  no  mind  gettin'  on  it." 

The  bishop,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye,  turned 
round  to  the  vicar,  who  was  standing  near,  and  mali- 
ciously whispered  : 

"A  card  table!" 

Such  comfortable  squires'  pews  still  exist  in  some 
churches,  but  "restoration"  has  paid  scanty  regard  to 
old-fashioned  notions  and  ideas,  and  the  squire  and 
his  family  usually  sit  nowadays  on  benches  similar  to 
those  used  by  the  rest  of  the  congregation. 


OLD-TIME   CHOIRS   AND    PARSONS  3 

Then  the  choir  sat  in  the  west  gallery  and  made 
strange  noises  and  sang  curious  tunes,  the  echoes  of 
which  we  shall  try  to  catch.  No  organ  then  pealed 
forth  its  reverent  tones  and  awaked  the  church  with 
dulcet  harmonies :  a  pitch-pipe  often  the  sole  instru- 
ment. And  then — what  terrible  hymns  were  sung  ! 
Well  did  Campbell  say  of  Sternhold  and  Hopkins,  the 
co-translators  of  the  Psalms  of  David  into  English 
metre,  "mistaking  vulgarity  for  simplicity,  they  turned 
into  bathos  what  they  found  sublime."  And  Tate  and 
Brady's  version,  the  "Dry  Psalter"  of  "Samuel 
Oxon's "  witticism,  was  little  better.  Think  of  the 
poetical  beauties  of  the  following  lines,  sung  with 
vigour  by  a  bald-headed  clerk  : 

"  My  hairs  are  numerous,  but  few 
Compared  to  th'  enemies  that  me  pursue." 

It  was  of  such  a  clerk  and  of  such  psalmody  that 
John  Wilmot,  Earl  of  Rochester,  in  the  seventeenth 
century  wrote  his  celebrated  epigram  : 

"Sternhold  and  Hopkins  had  great  qualms 
When  they  translated  David's  Psalms, 

To  make  the  heart  more  glad  ; 
But  had  it  been  poor  David's  fate 
To  hear  thee  sing  and  them  translate, 

By  Jove,  'twould  have  drove  him  mad." 

When  the  time  for  singing  the  metrical  Psalm  arrived, 
the  clerk  gave  out  the  number  in  stentorian  tones, 
using  the  usual  formula,  "  Let  us  sing  to  the  praise 
and  glory  of  God  the  one  hundred  and  fourth  Psalm, 
first,  second,  seving  (seven),  and  eleving  verses  with 
the  Doxology."  Then,  pulling  out  his  pitch-pipe  from 
the  dusty  cushions  of  his  seat,  he  would  strut  pompously 
down  the  church,  ascend  the  stairs  leading  to  the  west 
gallery,  blow  his  pipe,  and  give  the  basses,  tenors,  and 


4  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

soprano  voices  their  notes,  which  they  hung  on  to  in  a 
low  tone  until  the  clerk  returned  to  his  place  in  the 
lowest  tier  of  the  "three-decker"  and  started  the  choir- 
folk  vigorously.  Those  Doxologies  at  the  end  !  What 
a  trouble  they  were  !  You  could  find  them  if  you  knew 
where  to  look  for  them  at  the  end  of  the  Prayer  Book 
after  Tate  and  Brady's  metrical  renderings  of  the  Psalms 
of  David.  There  they  were,  but  the  right  one  was  hard 
to  find.  Some  had  two  syllables  too  much  to  suit  the 
tune,  and  some  had  two  syllables  too  little.  But  it  did 
not  matter  very  greatly,  and  we  were  accustomed  to  add 
a  word  here,  or  leave  out  one  there ;  it  was  all  in  a  day's 
work,  and  we  went  home  with  the  comfortable  reflection 
that  we  had  done  our  best. 

But  a  pitch-pipe  was  not  usually  the  sole  instrument. 
Many  village  churches  had  their  band,  composed  of 
fiddles,  flutes,  clarionets,  and  sometimes  bassoons 
and  a  drum.  "  Let's  go  and  hear  the  baboons,"  said  a 
clerk  mentioned  by  the  Rev.  John  Eagles  in  his  Essays. 
In  order  to  preserve  strict  historical  accuracy,  I  may 
add  that  this  invitation  was  recorded  in  the  year  1837, 
and  therefore  could  have  no  reference  to  evolutionary 
theories  and  the  Descent  of  Man.  This  clerk,  who  in- 
variably read  "Cheberims  and  Sepherims,"  and  was 
always  "a  lion  to  my  mother's  children,"  looking  not 
unlike  one  with  his  shaggy  hair  and  beard,  was  not  in- 
viting a  neighbour  to  a  Sunday  afternoon  at  the  Zoo, 
but  only  to  hear  the  bassoons. 

When  the  clerk  gave  out  the  hymn  or  Psalm,  or  on 
rare  occasions  the  anthem,  there  was  a  strange  sound 
of  tuning  up  the  instruments,  and  then  the  instruments 
wailed  forth  discordant  melody.  The  clerk  conducted 
the  choir,  composed  of  village  lads  and  maidens,  with 
a  few  stalwart  basses  and  tenors.  It  was  often  a  curious 


OLD-TIME   CHOIRS   AND   PARSONS  5 

performance.  Everybody  sang  as  loud  as  he  could 
bawl ;  cheeks  and  elbows  were  at  their  utmost  efforts, 
the  bassoon  vying  with  the  clarionet,  the  goose-stop  of 
the  clarionet  with  the  bassoon — it  was  Babel  with  the 
addition  of  the  beasts.  And  they  were  all  so  proud  of 
their  performance.  It  was  the  only  part  of  the  service 
during  which  no  one  could  sleep,  said  one  of  them  with 
pride — and  he  was  right.  No  one  could  sleep  through 
the  terrible  din.  They  were  the  most  important  officials 
in  the  church,  for  did  not  the  Psalms  make  it  clear, 
"  The  singers  go  before,  and  the  minstrels"  (which  they 
understood  to  mean  ministers)  ' '  follow  after  "?  And  then 
— those  anthems !  They  were  terrible  inflictions.  Every 
bumpkin  had  his  favourite  solo,  and  oh  !  the  murder, 
the  profanation!  "Some  put  their  trust  in  charrots 
and  some  in  'orses,"  but  they  didn't  "  quite  pat  off  the 
stephany,"  as  one  of  the  singers  remarked,  meaning 
symphony.  It  was  all  very  strange  and  curious. 

Then  followed  the  era  of  barrel-organs,  the  clerk's 
duty  being  to  turn  the  handle  and  start  the  singing. 
He  was  the  only  person  who  understood  its  mechanism 
and  how  to  change  the  barrels.  Sometimes  accidents 
happened,  as  at  Aston  Church,  Yorkshire,  some  time  in 
the  thirties.  One  Sunday  morning  during  the  singing 
of  a  hymn  the  music  came  to  a  sudden  stop.  There 
was  a  solemn  pause,  and  then  the  clerk  was  seen  to 
make  his  way  to  the  front  of  the  singing  gallery,  and 
was  heard  addressing  the  vicar  in  a  loud  tone,  saying, 
"  Please,  sor,  an-ell  'as  coom  off."  The  handle  had 
come  off  the  instrument.  At  another  church,  in 
Huntingdonshire,  the  organ  was  hidden  from  view  by 
drawn  curtains,  behind  which  the  clerk  used  to  retire 
when  he  had  given  out  the  Psalm.  On  one  occasion, 
however,  no  sound  of  music  issued  from  behind  the 


6  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

curtains ;  at  last,  after  a  solemn  pause,  the  clerk's 
quizzical  face  appeared,  and  his  harsh  voice  shouted 
out,  "Dang  it,  she  'on't  speak!"  The  "  grinstun 
organ,"  as  David  Diggs,  the  hero  of  Hewett's  Parish 
Clerk  calls  it,  was  not  always  to  be  depended  on. 
Every  one  knows  the  Lancashire  dialect  story  of  the 
"  Barrel  Organ"  which  refused  to  stop,  and  had  to  be 
carried  out  of  church  and  sat  upon,  and  yet  still  con- 
tinued to  pour  forth  its  dirge-like  melody. 

David  Diggs  may  not  have  been  a  strictly  historical 
character,  but  the  sketch  of  him  was  doubtless  founded 
upon  fact,  and  the  account  of  the  introduction  of  the 
barrel-organ  into  the  church  of  "Seatown"  on  the 
coast  of  Sussex  is  evidently  drawn  from  life.  A  vestry 
meeting  was  held  to  consider  about  having  a  quire  in 
church,  and  buying  a  barrel-organ  with  half  a  dozen 
simple  Psalm  tunes  upon  it,  which  Davy  was  to  turn 
while  the  parson  put  his  gown  on,  and  the  children 
taught  to  sing  to.  The  clerk  was  ordered  to  write  to 
the  squire  and  ask  him  for  a  liberal  subscription.  This 
was  his  letter : 

"  Mr  Squir,  sur, 

"Me  &  Farmer  Field  &  the  rest  of  the  genel- 
men  In  vestri  sembled  Thinks  the  parson  want  parish 
Relif  in  shape  of  A  Grindstun  orgin  betwin  Survisses 
— i  am  to  grind  him  &  the  sundy  skool  kildren  is  to 
sing  to  him  wile  he  Gos  out  of  is  sete. 

"We  liv  It  to  yuresef  wart  to  giv  as  we  dont  wont  to 

limit  yur  malevolens  ,,  ,7 

4  Your  obedunt  servunt 

"DAVY  DIGGS." 

Of  course  this  worthy  scribe  taught  the  children  in 
the  school,  though  writing  was  happily  considered  a 


OLD-TIME   CHOIRS   AND   PARSONS  7 

superfluous  accomplishment.  He  taught  little  beyond 
the  Church  Catechism  and  the  Psalms,  which  he  knew 
from  frequent  repetition,  though  he  often  wanted  to 
imbue  the  infant  minds  entrusted  to  his  charge  with 
the  Christening,  Marriage,  and  Burial  Services,  and 
the  Churching  of  Women,  because  he  "know'd  um  by 
heart  himself." 

The  barrel-organ  was  scarcely  a  great  improvement 
upon  the  "cornet,  flute,  sackbut,  psaltery" — I  mean  the 
violins,  'cellos,  clarionets,  and  bassoons  which  it  sup- 
planted. The  music  of  the  village  musicians  in  the 
west  gallery  was  certainly  not  of  the  highest  order. 
The  instruments  were  often  out  of  tune,  and  the  fiddle- 
player  and  the  flutist  were  often  at  logger-heads ;  but 
it  was  a  sad  pity  when  their  labours  were  brought  to 
an  end,  and  the  mechanical  organ  took  their  place. 
The  very  fact  that  all  these  players  took  a  keen  in- 
terest in  the  conduct  of  Divine  service  was  in  itself  an 
advantage. 

The  barrel-organ  killed  the  old  musical  life  of  the 
village.  England  was  once  the  most  musical  nation  in 
Europe.  Puritanism  tried  to  kill  music.  Organs  were 
broken  everywhere  in  the  cathedrals  and  colleges, 
choirs  dispersed  and  musical  publications  ceased.  The 
professional  players  on  violins,  lutes,  and  flutes  who 
had  performed  in  the  theatres  or  at  Court  wandered 
away  into  the  villages,  taught  the  rustics  how  to  play 
on  their  beloved  instruments  in  the  taverns  and  ale- 
houses, and  bequeathed  their  fiddles  and  clarionets  to 
their  rustic  friends.  Thus  the  rural  orchestra  had  its 
birth,  and  right  heartily  did  they  perform  not  only  in 
church,  but  at  village  feasts  and  harvest  homes,  wakes 
and  weddings.  The  parish  clerk  was  usually  their 
leader,  and  was  a  welcome  visitor  in  farm  or  cottage  or 


8  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

at  the  manor  when  he  conducted  his  companions  to 
sing  the  Christmas  carols. 

The  barrel-organ  sealed  the  fate  of  the  village 
orchestra.  The  old  fiddles  were  wanted  no  more,  and 
were  hung  up  in  the  cottages  as  relics  of  the  "good 
old  times."  For  a  time  the  clerk  preserved  his  dignity 
and  continued  to  take  his  part  in  the  music,  turning 
the  handle  of  the  organ. 

Then  the  harmonium  came,  played  by  the  school- 
mistress or  some  other  village  performer.  No  wonder 
the  clerk  was  indignant.  His  musical  autocracy  had 
been  overthrown.  At  one  church — Swanscombe,  Kent 
— when,  in  1854,  the  change  had  taken  place,  and  a 

kind  lady,  Miss  F ,  had  consented  to  play  the  new 

harmonium,  the  clerk,  village  cobbler  and  leader  of 
parish  orchestra,  gave  out  the  hymn  in  his  accustomed 
fashion,  and  then,  with  consummate  scorn,  bellowed 
out,  "Now,  then,  Miss  F ,  strike  up  !" 

It  would  have  been  a  far  wiser  policy  to  have  re- 
formed the  old  village  orchestra,  to  have  taught  the 
rustic  musicians  to  play  better,  than  to  have  silenced 
them  for  ever  and  substituted  the  "grinstun"  instru- 
ment. 

Archbishop  Tait  once  said  that  there  is  no  one  who 
does  not  look  back  with  a  kind  of  shame  to  the  sort  of 
sermons  which  were  preached,  the  sort  of  clergymen 
who  preached  them,  the  sort  of  building  in  which  they 
preached  them,  and  the  sort  of  psalmody  with  which 
the  service  was  ushered  in.  The  late  Mr.  Beresford 
Hope  thus  describes  the  kind  of  service  that  went  on  in 
the  time  of  George  IV  in  a  market  town  of  Surrey  not 
far  from  London.  It  was  a  handsome  Gothic  church,  the 
chancel  being  cut  off  from  the  nave  by  a  solid  partition 
covered  with  verses  and  strange  paintings,  among  which 


OLD-TIME   CHOIRS   AND   PARSONS  9 

Moses  and  Aaron  show  in  peculiar  uncouthness.  The 
aisles  were  filled  with  family  pews  or  private  boxes,  raised 
aloft,  and  approached  by  private  doors  and  staircases. 
These  were  owned  by  the  magnates  of  the  place,  who 
were  wont  to  bow  their  recognitions  across  the  nave. 
There  was  a  decrepit  west  gallery  for  the  band,  and 
the  ground  floor  was  crammed  with  cranky  pews  of 
every  shape.  A  Carolean  pulpit  stood  against  a  pillar, 
with  reading-desk  and  clerk's  box  underneath.  The 
ante-Communion  Service  was  read  from  the  desk, 
separated  from  the  liturgy  and  sermon  by  such  ren- 
derings of  Tate  and  Brady  as  the  unruly  gang  of 
volunteers  with  fiddles  and  wind  instruments  in  the 
gallery  pleased  to  contribute.  The  clerk,  a  wizened  old 
fellow  in  a  brown  wig,  repeated  the  responses  in  a  nasal 
twang,  and  with  a  substitution  of  w  for  v  so  constant 
as  not  even  to  spare  the  Beliefs  ;  while  the  local  render- 
ing of  briefs,  citations,  and  excommunications  included 
announcements  by  this  worthy,  after  the  Nicene  Creed, 
of  meetings  at  the  town  inn  of  the  executors  of  a  de- 
ceased duke.  Two  hopeful  cubs  of  the  clerk  sprawled 
behind  him  in  the  desk,  and  the  back-handers  occasion- 
ally intended  to  reduce  them  to  order  were  apt  to  re- 
sound against  the  impassive  boards.  During  the 
sermon  this  zealous  servant  of  the  sanctuary  would 
take  up  his  broom  and  sweep  out  the  middle  alley,  in 
order  to  save  himself  the  fatigue  of  a  week-day  visit. 
Soon,  however,  the  clerk  and  his  broom  followed  Moses 
and  Aaron,  the  fiddles  and  the  bassoons  into  the  land 
of  shadows. 

No  sketch  of  bygone  times,  in  which  the  clerk 
flourished  in  all  his  glory,  would  be  complete  without 
some  reference  to  the  important  person  who  occupied 
the  second  tier  in  the  "three-decker,"  and  decked  in  gown 


io  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

and  bands  delivered  somnolent  sermons  from  its  upper 
storey.  Curious  stories  are  often  told  of  the  careless 
parsons  of  former  days,  of  their  irreverence,  their  love 
of  sport,  their  neglect  of  their  parishes,  their  quaint 
and  irreverent  manners  ;  but  such  characters,  about 
whom  these  stories  were  told,  were  exceptional.  By  far 
the  greater  number  lived  well  and  did  their  duty  and 
passed  away,  and  left  no  memories  behind  except  in 
the  tender  recollections  of  a  few  simple-minded  folk. 
There  were  few  local  newspapers  in  those  days  to  tell 
their  virtues,  to  print  their  sermons  or  their  speeches 
at  the  opening  of  bazaars  or  flower-shows.  They 
did  their  duty  and  passed  away  and  were  forgotten  ; 
while  the  parsons,  like  the  wretch  Chowne  of  the  Maid 
of  Sker,  live  on  in  anecdote,  and  grave  folk  shake 
their  heads  and  think  that  the  times  must  have  been 
very  bad,  and  the  clergy  a  disgrace  to  their  cloth.  As 
with  the  clerk,  so  with  his  master ;  the  evil  that  men  do 
lives  after  them,  the  good  is  forgotten.  There  has  been 
a  vast  amount  of  exaggeration  in  the  accounts  that 
have  come  down  to  us  of  the  faithlessness,  sluggish- 
ness, idleness,  and  base  conduct  of  the  clergy  of  the 
eighteenth  and  early  nineteenth  centuries,  and  perhaps 
a  little  too  much  boasting  about  the  progress  which  our 
age  has  witnessed. 

It  would  be  an  easy  task  to  record  the  lives  of 
many  worthy  country  clergymen  of  the  much-abused 
Hanoverian  period,  who  were  exemplary  parish  priests, 
pious,  laborious,  and  beloved.  In  recording  the  ec- 
centricities and  lack  of  reverence  of  many  clerics  and 
their  faithful  servitors,  it  is  well  to  remember  the 

many  bright  lights  that  shone  like  lamps  in  a  dark 
place. 

It  would  be  a  difficult  task  to  write  a  history  of  our 


OLD-TIME   CHOIRS   AND   PARSONS  n 

parish  priesthood,  for  reasons  which  have  already  been 
stated,  and  such  a  labour  is  beyond  our  present  pur- 
pose. But  it  may  be  well  to  record  a  few  of  the 
observations  which  contemporary  writers  have  made 
upon  the  parsons  of  their  day  in  order  to  show  that 
they  were  by  no  means  a  set  of  careless,  disreputable, 
and  unworthy  men. 

During  the  greater  part  of  the  eighteenth  century 
there  lived  at  Seathwaite,  Lancashire,  as  curate,  the 
famous  Robert  Walker,  styled  " the  Wonderful,"  "a 
man  singular  for  his  temperance,  industry,  and  in- 
tegrity," as  the  parish  register  records. 

Wordsworth  alludes  to  him  in  his  eighteenth  sonnet 
on  Durdon  as  a  worthy  compeer  of  the  country  parson 
of  Chaucer,  and  in  the  seventh  book  of  the  Excursion 
an  abstract  of  his  character  is  given  : 

"A  priest  abides  before  whose  lips  such  doubts 
Fall  to  the  ground,  as  in  those  days 
When  this  low  pile  a  gospel  preacher  knew 
Whose  good  works  formed  an  endless  retinue  ; 
A  pastor  such  as  Chaucer's  verse  portrays, 
Such  as  the  heaven-taught  skill  of  Herbert  drew, 
And  tender  Goldsmith  crown'd  with  deathless  praise." 

The  poet  also  gives  a  short  memoir  of  the  Wonderful 
Walker.  In  this  occurs  the  following  extract  from  a 
letter  dated  1775  : 

"  By  his  frugality  and  good  management  he  keeps 
the  wolf  from  the  door,  as  we  say  ;  and  if  he  advances 
a  little  in  the  world  it  is  owing  more  to  his  own  care 
than  to  anything  else  he  has  to  rely  upon.  I  don't  find 
his  inclination  in  running  after  further  preferment. 
He  is  settled  among  the  people  that  are  happy  among 
themselves,  and  lives  in  the  greatest  unanimity  and 
friendship  with  them ;  and,  I  believe,  the  minister 


i2  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

and  people  are  exceedingly  satisfied  with  each  other : 
and  indeed,  how  should  they  be  dissatisfied,  when  they 
have  a  person  of  so  much  worth  and  probity  for  their 
pastor?  A  man  who  for  his  candour  and  meekness, 
his  sober,  chaste,  and  virtuous  conversation,  his  sound- 
ness in  principle  and  practice,  is  an  ornament  to  his 
profession  and  an  honour  to  the  country  he  is  in  ;  and 
bear  with  me  if  I  say,  the  plainness  of  his  dress,  the 
sanctity  of  his  manners,  the  simplicity  of  his  doctrine, 
and  the  vehemence  of  his  expression,  have  a  sort  of 
resemblance  to  the  pure  practice  of  primitive  Chris- 
tianity." 

The  income  of  his  chapelry  was  the  munificent  sum 
of  £ij  los.  He  reared  and  educated  a  numerous 
family  of  twelve  children.  Every  Sunday  he  enter- 
tained those  members  of  his  congregation  who  came 
from  a  distance,  taught  the  village  school,  acted  as 
scrivener  and  lawyer  for  the  district,  farmed,  and  helped 
his  neighbours  in  haymaking  and  sheep-shearing, 
spun  cloth,  studied  natural  history,  and,  in  spite  of 
all  this,  was  throughout  a  devoted  and  earnest  parish 
priest.  He  was  certainly  entitled  to  his  epithet  "the 
Wonderful." 

Goldsmith  has  given  us  a  charming  picture  of  an 
old-world  parson  in  his  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  and  Field- 
ing sketches  a  no  less  worthy  cleric  in  his  portrait  of 
the  Rev.  Abraham  Adams  in  his  Joseph  Andrews.  As 
a  companion  picture  he  drew  the  character  of  the  pig- 
keeping  Parson  Trulliber,  no  scandalous  cleric,  though 
he  cared  more  for  his  cows  and  pigs  than  he  did  for 
his  parishioners. 

"  Hawks  should  not  peck  out  hawks'  e'en,"  and 
parsons  should  not  scoff  at  their  fellows  ;  yet  Crabbe 


OLD-TIME   CHOIRS   AND   PARSONS  13 

was  a  little  unkind  in  his  description  of  country 
parsons,  though  he  could  say  little  against  the  char- 
acter of  his  vicar. 

"  Our  Priest  was  cheerful  and  in  season  gay  ; 
His  frequent  visits  seldom  fail'd  to  please  ; 
Easy  himself,  he  sought  his  neighbour's  ease. 


Simple  he  was,  and  loved  the  simple  truth, 
Yet  had  some  useful  cunning  from  his  youth  ; 
A  cunning  never  to  dishonour  lent, 
And  rather  for  defence  than  conquest  meant ; 
'Twas  fear  of  power,  with  some  desire  to  rise, 
But  not  enough  to  make  him  enemies  ; 
He  ever  aim'd  to  please  ;  and  to  offend 
Was  ever  cautious  ;  for  he  sought  a  friend. 
Fiddling  and  fishing  were  his  arts,  at  times 
He  alter'd  sermons,  and  he  aimed  at  rhymes  ; 
And  his  fair  friends,  not  yet  intent  on  cards, 
Oft  he  amused  with  riddles  and  charades. 
Mild  were  his  doctrines,  and  not  one  discourse 
But  gained  in  softness  what  it  lost  in  force  ; 
Kind  his  opinions  ;  he  would  not  receive 
An  ill  report,  nor  evil  act  believe. 


Now  rests  our  vicar.     They  who  knew  him  best 

Proclaim  his  life  t'  have  been  entirely — rest. 

The  rich  approved — of  them  in  awe  he  stood  ; 

The  poor  admired — they  all  believed  him  good  ; 

The  old  and  serious  of  his  habits  spoke  ; 

The  frank  and  youthful  loved  his  pleasant  joke  ; 

Mothers  approved  a  safe  contented  guest, 

And  daughters  one  who  backed  each  small  request ; 

In  him  his  flock  found  nothing  to  condemn  ; 

Him  sectaries  liked — he  never  troubled  them  ; 

No  trifles  failed  his  yielding  mind  to  please, 

And  all  his  passions  sunk  in  early  ease  ; 

Nor  one  so  old  has  left  this  world  of  sin 

More  like  the  being  that  he  entered  in." 

A  somewhat  caustic  and  sarcastic  sketch,  and  per- 
haps a  little  ill-natured,  of  a  somewhat  amiable  cleric. 


,4  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Dr.  Syntax  is  a  good  example  of  an  old-world  parson, 
whose  biographer  thus  describes  his  laborious  life  : 

"Of  Church  preferment  he  had  none  ; 
Nay,  all  his  hope  of  that  was  gone  ; 
He  felt  that  he  content  must  be 
With  drudging  in  a  curacy. 
Indeed,  on  ev'ry  Sabbath-day, 
Through  eight  long  miles  he  took  his  way,   • 
To  preach,  to  grumble,  and  to  pray  ; 
To  cheer  the  good,  to  warn  the  sinner, 
And  if  he  got  it, — eat  a  dinner  : 
To  bury  these,  to  christen  those, 
And  marry  such  fond  folks  as  chose 
To  change  the  tenor  of  their  life, 
And  risk  the  matrimonial  strife. 
Thus  were  his  weekly  journeys  made, 
'Neath  summer  suns  and  wintry  shade  ; 
And  all  his  gains,  it  did  appear, 
Were  only  thirty  pounds  a-year." 

And  when  the  last  event  of  his  hard-working  life 
was  over — 

"  The  village  wept,  the  hamlets  round 
Crowded  the  consecrated  ground  ; 
And  waited  there  to  see  the  end 
Of  Pastor,  Teacher,  Father,  Friend." 

Who  could  write  a  better  epitaph  ? 

Doubtless  the  crying  evil  of  what  is  called  "the 
dead  period "  of  the  Church's  history  was  pluralism. 
It  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  a  clergyman  to  hold 
half  a  dozen  benefices,  in  one  of  which  he  would  re- 
side, and  appoint  curates  with  slender  stipends  to  the 
rest,  only  showing  himself  "when  tithing  time  draws 
near." 

When  Bishop  Stanley  became  Bishop  of  Norwich  in 
1837  there  were  six  hundred  non-resident  incumbents, 
a  state  of  things  which  he  did  a  vast  amount  of  work 
to  remedy.  Mr.  Clitherow  tells  me  of  a  friend  who  was 
going  to  be  married  and  who  requested  a  neighbour  to 


OLD-TIME   CHOIRS   AND   PARSONS  15 

take  his  two  services  for  him  during  his  brief  honey- 
moon. The  neighbour  at  first  hesitated,  but  at  last 
consented,  having  six  other  services  to  take  on  the  one 
Sunday. 

An  old  clergyman  named  Field  lived  at  Cambridge 
and  served  three  country  parishes — Hauxton,  Newton, 
and  Barnington.  On  Sunday  morning  he  used  to 
ride  to  Hauxton,  which  he  could  see  from  the  high 
road  to  Newton.  If  there  was  a  congregation,  the 
clerk  used  to  waggle  his  hat  on  the  top  of  a  long  pole 
kept  in  the  church  porch,  and  Field  had  to  turn  down 
the  road  and  take  the  service.  If  there  was  no  con- 
gregation he  went  on  straight  to  Newton,  where  there 
was  always  a  congregation,  as  two  old  ladies  were 
always  present.  Field  used  to  turn  his  pony  loose  in 
the  churchyard,  and  as  he  entered  the  church  began 
the  Exhortation,  so  that  by  the  time  he  was  robed  he 
had  progressed  well  through  the  service.  My  informant, 
the  Rev.  M.  J.  Bacon,  was  curate  at  Newton,  and  re- 
members well  the  old  surplice  turned  up  and  shortened 
at  the  bottom,  where  the  old  parson's  spurs  had  frayed  it. 

It  was  this  pluralism  that  led  to  much  abuse,  much 
neglect,  and  much  carelessness.  However,  enough  has 
been  said  about  the  shepherd,  and  we  must  return  to 
his  helper,  the  clerk,  with  whose  biography  and  history 
we  are  mainly  concerned. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   ANTIQUITY   AND   CONTINUITY   OF  THE 
OFFICE   OF  CLERK 

THE  office  of  parish  clerk  can  claim  considerable 
antiquity,  and  dates  back  to  the  times  of  Augus- 
tine and  King  Ethelbert.  Pope  Gregory  the  Great,  in 
writing  to  St.  Augustine  of  Canterbury  with  regard  to 
the  order  and  constitution  of  the  Church  in  new  lands 
and  under  new  circumstances,  laid  down  sundry  regula- 
tions with  regard  to  the  clerk's  marriage  and  mode  of 
life.  King  Ethelbert,  by  the  advice  of  his  Witenage- 
mote,  introduced  certain  judicial  decrees,  which  set  down 
what  satisfaction  should  be  given  by  those  who  stole 
anything  belonging  to  the  church.  The  purloiner  of 
a  clerk's  property  was  ordered  to  restore  threefold.1 
The  canons  of  King  Edgar,  which  may  be  attributed 
to  the  wise  counsel  of  St.  Dunstan,  ordered  every 
clergyman  to  attend  the  synod  yearly  and  to  bring  his 
clerk  with  him. 

Thus  from  early  Saxon  times  the  history  of  the  office 
can  be  traced. 

His  name  is  merely  the  English  form  of  the  Latin 
clericus,  a  word  which  signified  any  one  who  took  part 
in  the  services  of  the  Church,  whether  he  was  in  major 
or  minor  orders.  A  clergyman  is  still  a  "  clerk  in 

1  Bede's  Hist.  Eccles.,  ii.  v. 
16 


ANTIQUITY   OF   THE   OFFICE  17 

Holy  Orders,"  and  a  parish  clerk  signified  one  who 
belonged  to  the  rank  of  minor  orders  and  assisted  the 
parish  priest  in  the  services  of  the  parish  church.  We 
find  traces  of  him  abroad  in  early  days.  In  the  seventh 
century,  the  canons  of  the  Ninth  Council  of  Toledo  and 
of  the  Council  of  Merida  tell  of  his  services  in  the 
worship  of  the  sanctuary,  and  in  the  ninth  century  he 
has  risen  to  prominence  in  the  Gallican  Church,  as  we 
gather  from  the  inquiries  instituted  by  Archbishop 
Hincmar,  of  Rheims,  who  demanded  of  the  rural  deans 
whether  each  presbyter  had  a  clerk  who  could  keep 
school,  or  read  the  epistle,  or  was  able  to  sing. 

In  the  decretals  of  Gregory  IX  there  is  a  reference  to 
the  clerk's  office,  and  his  duties  obtain  the  sanction  of 
canon  law.  Every  incumbent  is  ordered  to  have  a 
clerk  who  shall  sing  with  him  the  service,  read  the 
epistle  and  lesson,  teach  in  the  school,  and  admonish 
the  parishioners  to  send  their  children  to  the  church  to 
be  instructed  in  the  faith.  It  was  thus  in  ancient  days 
that  the  Church  provided  for  the  education  of  children, 
a  duty  which  she  has  always  endeavoured  to  perform. 
Her  officers  were  the  schoolmasters.  The  weird  cry  of 
the  abolition  of  tests  for  teachers  was  then  happily 
unknown. 

The  strenuous  Bishop  Grosseteste  (1235-53),  for  the 
better  ordering  of  his  diocese  of  Lincoln,  laid  down 
the  injunction  that  "  in  every  church  of  sufficient  means 
there  shall  be  a  deacon  or  sub-deacon  ;  but  in  the  rest 
a  fitting  and  honest  clerk  to  serve  the  priest  in  a  comely 
habit."  The  clerk's  office  was  also  discussed  in  the 
same  century  at  a  synod  at  Exeter  in  1289,  when  it  was 
decided  that  where  there  was  a  school  within  ten  miles 
of  any  parish  some  scholar  should  be  chosen  for  the 
office  of  parish  clerk.  This  rule  provided  for  poor 
c 


i8  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

scholars  who  intended  to  proceed  to  the  priesthood, 
and  also  secured  suitable  teachers  for  the  children  of 
the  parishes. 

It  appears  that  an  attempt  was  made  to  enforce 
celibacy  on  the  holders  of  minor  orders,  an  experiment 
which  was  not  crowned  with  success.  William  Lynde- 
woode,  Official  Principal  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury in  1429,  speaks  thus  of  the  married  clerk  : — 

"  He  is  a  clerk,  not  therefore  a  layman  ;  but  if  twice 
married  he  must  be  counted  among  laymen,  because 
such  an  one  is  deprived  of  all  clerical  privilege.  If, 
however,  he  were  married,  albeit  not  twice,  yet  so  long 
as  he  wears  the  clerical  habit  and  tonsure  he  shall  be 
held  a  clerk  in  two  respects,  to  wit,  that  he  may  enjoy 
the  clerical  privilege  in  his  person,  and  that  he  may  not 
be  brought  before  the  secular  judges.  But  in  all  other 
respects  he  shall  be  considered  as  a  layman." 

In  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  the  parish 
clerks  became  important  officials.  We  shall  see  pre- 
sently how  they  were  incorporated  into  fraternities  or 
guilds,  and  how  they  played  a  prominent  part  in  civic 
functions,  in  state  funerals,  and  in  ecclesiastical 
matters.  The  Reformation  rather  added  to  than 
diminished  the  importance  of  the  office  and  the  dignity 
of  the  holder  of  it. 

The  continuity  of  the  office  is  worthy  of  record. 
From  the  days  of  Augustine  to  the  present  time  it  has 
never  ceased  to  exist.  The  clerk  is  the  last  representa- 
tive of  the  minor  orders  which  the  ecclesiastical  changes 
wrought  in  the  sixteenth  century  have  left  us.  Prior  to 
the  Reformation  there  were  sub-deacons  who  wore  alb 
and  maniple,  acolytes,  the  tokens  of  whose  office  were 
a  taper  staff  and  small  pitcher,  ostiaries  or  doorkeepers 
corresponding  to  our  verger  or  clerk,  readers,  exor- 


THK   MEDI/EVAL   CI.ERK. 


THE   CLERK    IN   PROCESSION 


ANTIQUITY  OF  THE   OFFICE  19 

cists,  rectores  chori,  etc.  This  full  staff  would,  of 
course,  be  not  available  for  every  country  church,  and 
for  such  parishes  a  clerk  and  a  boy  acolyte  doubtless 
sufficed,  though  in  large  churches  there  were  represen- 
tatives of  all  these  various  officials.  They  disappeared 
in  the  Reformation  ;  only  the  clerk  remained,  in- 
corporating in  his  own  person  the  offices  of  reader, 
acolyte,  sub-deacon. 

Indeed,  if  in  these  enlightened  days  any  proof  were 
needed  of  the  historical  continuity  of  the  English 
Church,  it  would  be  found  in  the  permanence  of  the 
clerk's  office.  Just  as  in  many  instances  the  same  indi- 
vidual rector  or  vicar  continued  to  hold  his  living  during 
the  whole  period  of  the  Reformation  era,  witnessing 
the  spoliation  of  his  church  by  the  greedy  Commis- 
sioners of  Henry  VIII  and  Edward  VI,  the  introduction 
of  the  First  Prayer  Book  of  Edward  VI,  the  revival 
of  the  "old  religion  "  under  Queen  Mary,  the  triumph 
of  Reformation  principles  under  Queen  Elizabeth  ;  so 
did  the  parish  clerk  continue  to  hold  office  also.  The 
Reformation  changed  many  of  his  functions  and 
duties,  but  the  office  remained.  The  old  church- 
wardens' account  books  bear  witness  to  this  fact. 
Previous  to  the  Reformation  he  received  certain  wages 
and  many  "perquisites"  from  the  inhabitants  of  the 
parish  for  distributing  the  holy  loaf  and  the  holy 
water.  At  St.  Giles's,  Reading,  in  the  year  1518-19, 
appears  the  item  : 

EXPENS.  In  p'mis  paid  for  the  dekays  of  the  Clark's 
wages  vis. 

In  the  following  year  we  notice  : 

WAGE.  Paid  to  Harry  Water  Clerk  for  his  wage  for  a 
yere  ended  at  thannacon  of  our  lady  a°  xi°  .  .  .  xxvi"  viiid. 


20  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

In  1545-6,  Whitborne,  the  clerk,  received  125.  to- 
wards his  wages,  and  he  "to  be  bound  to  teche  ij 
children  free  for  the  quere." 

After  the  Reformation,  in  the  same  town  we  find  the 
same  clerk  continuing  in  office.  He  no  longer  went 
round  the  parish  bearing  holy  water,  but  the  collecting 
of  money  for  the  holy  loaf  continued,  the  proceeds 
being  devoted  to  the  necessary  expenses  of  the  church. 
Thus  in  the  Injunctions  given  by  the  King's  Majesty's 
visitors  to  the  clergy  and  laity  resident  in  the  Deanery 
of  Doncaster  in  the  second  year  of  the  reign  of  King 
Edward  VI,  appears  the  following  : 

"Item.  The  churchwardens  of  every  Parish-Church  shall, 
some  one  Sunday,  or  other  Festival  day,  every  month,  go 
about  the  Church,  and  make  request  to  every  of  the  Parish 
for  their  charitable  Contribution  to  the  Poor  ;  and  the  sum 
so  collected  shall  be  put  in  the  Chest  of  Alms  for  that 
purpose  provided.  And  for  as  much  as  the  Parish-Clerk 
shall  not  hereafter  go  about  the  Parish  with  his  Holy  Water 
as  hath  been  accustomed,  he  shall,  instead  of  that  labour, 
accompany  the  said  Church-Wardens,  and  in  a  Book  Register 
the  name  and  Sum  of  every  man  that  giveth  any  thing1  to  the 
Poor,  and  the  same  shall  intable  ;  and  against  the  next  day 
of  Collection,  shall  hang  up  some-where  in  the  Church  in 
open  place,  to  the  intent  the  Poor  having  knowledg  thereby, 
by  whose  Charity  and  Alms  they  be  relieved,  may  pray  for  the 
increase  and  prosperity  of  the  same."1 

This  is  only  one  instance  out  of  many  which  might 
be  quoted  to  prove  that  the  clerk's  office  by  no  means 
ceased  to  exist  after  the  Reformation  changes.  I  shall 
refer  later  on  to  the  survival  of  the  collection  of  money 
for  the  holy  loaf  and  to  its  transference  to  other  uses. 

1  The  Clerk's  Book  of  i$<ig,  edited  by  J.  Wickham  Legg,  Appendix  IX, 
P-  95- 


ANTIQUITY  OF  THE   OFFICE  21 

The  clerk,  therefore,  appears  to  have  continued  to 
hold  his  office  shorn  of  some  of  his  former  duties. 
He  witnessed  all  the  changes  of  that  changeful  time, 
the  spoliation  of  his  church,  the  selling  of  numerous 
altar  cloths,  vestments,  banners,  plate,  and  other  costly 
furniture,  and,  moreover,  took  his  part  in  the  destruc- 
tion of  altars  and  the  desecration  of  the  sanctuary. 
In  the  accounts  for  the  year  1559  of  the  Church  of 
St.  Lawrence,  Reading,  appear  the  items : 

"  Itm — for  taking-downe  the  awlters  and  laying  the 
stones,  v8. 

"To  Loryman  (the  clerk)  for  carrying  out  the  rubbish  xd." l 

Indeed,  the  clerk  can  claim  a  more  perfect  continuity 
of  office  than  the  rector  or  vicar.  There  was  a  time 
when  the  incumbents  were  forced  to  leave  their  cure 
and  give  place  to  an  intruding  minister  appointed  by 
the  Cromwellian  Parliament.  But  the  clerk  remained 
on  to  chant  his  "Amen"  to  the  long-winded  prayers 
of  some  black-gowned  Puritan.  That  is  a  very  real- 
istic scene  sketched  by  Sir  Walter  Besant  when  he 
describes  the  old  clerk,  an  ancient  man  and  rheu- 
matic, hobbling  slowly  through  the  village,  key  in 
hand,  to  the  church  door.  It  was  towards  the  end 
of  the  Puritan  regime.  After  ringing  the  bell  and 
preparing  the  church  for  the  service,  he  goes  into 
the  vestry,  where  stood  an  ancient  black  oak  coffer, 
the  sides  curiously  graven,  and  a  great  rusty  key  in 
the  lock.  The  clerk  (Sir  Walter  calls  him  the  sexton, 
but  it  is  evidently  the  clerk  who  is  referred  to)  turns 
the  key  with  difficulty,  throws  open  the  lid,  and 
looks  in. 

"Ay,"  he  says,  chuckling,  "the  old  surplice  and  the 

1  Rev.  C.  Kerry's  History  of  S.  Lawrence's  Church,  Reading',  p.  25. 


22  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

old  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  Ye  have  had  a  long 
rest ;  'tis  time  for  you  both  to  come  out  again.  When 
the  surplice  is  out,  the  book  will  stay  no  longer  locked 
up."  He  draws  forth  an  old  and  yellow  roll.  It  was 
the  surplice  which  had  once  been  white.  "  Here  you 
be,"  he  says;  "put  you  away  for  a  matter  of  twelve 
year  and  more,  and  you  bide  your  time  ;  you  know 
you  will  come  back  again  ;  you  are  not  in  any  hurry. 
Even  the  clerk  dies ;  but  you  die  not,  you  bide  your 
time.  Everything  comes  again.  The  old  woman  shall 
give  you  a  taste  o'  the  suds  and  the  hot  iron.  Thus 
we  go  up  and  thus  we  go  down."  Then  he  takes  up 
the  old  book,  musty  and  damp  after  twelve  years'  im- 
prisonment. "Fie, "he  says,  "thy  leather  is  parting 
from  thy  boards,  and  thy  leaves  they  do  stick  together. 
Shalt  have  a  pot  of  paste,  and  then  lie  in  the  sun 
before  thou  goest  back  to  the  desk.  Whether  'tis  Mass 
or  Common  Prayer,  whether  'tis  Independent  or  Pres- 
byterian, folk  mun  still  die  and  be  buried — ay,  and 
married  and  born — whatever  they  do  say.  Parson 
goes  and  Preacher  comes  ;  Preacher  goes  and  Parson 
comes ;  but  Sexton  stays.'  He  chuckles  again,  puts 
back  the  surplice  and  the  book,  and  locks  the  coffer.1 

Like  many  of  his  brethren,  he  had  seen  the  Church 
of  England  displaced  by  the  Presbyterians,  and  the 
Presbyterians  by  the  Independents,  and  the  restoration 
of  the  Church.  His  father,  who  had  been  clerk  before 
him,  had  seen  the  worship  of  the  "old  religion"  in 
Queen  Mary's  time,  and  all  the  time  the  village  life 
had  been  going  on,  and  the  clerk's  work  had  con- 
tinued ;  his  office  remained.  In  village  churches  the 
duties  of  clerk  and  sexton  are  usually  performed  by 
the  same  person.  Not  long  ago  a  gentleman  was  visit- 

1  For  Faith  and  Freedom,  by  Sir  Walter  Besant,  chap.  I. 


ANTIQUITY   OF  THE   OFFICE  23 

ing  a  village  church,  and  was  much  struck  by  the  re- 
marks of  an  old  man  who  seemed  to  know  each  stone 
and  tomb  and  legend.  The  stranger  asking  him  what 
his  occupation  was,  he  replied  : 

"  I  hardly  know  what  I  be.  First  vicar  he  called  me 
clerk  ;  then  another  came,  and  he  called  me  virgin  ; 
the  last  vicar  said  I  were  the  Christian,  and  now  I  be 
clerk  again." 

The  "virgin"  was  naturally  a  slight  confusion  for 
verger,  and  the  "  Christian"  was  a  corrupt  form  of 
sacristan  or  sexton.  All  the  duties  of  these  various 
callings  were  combined  in  the  one  individual. 

That  story  reminds  one  of  another  concerning  the 

diligent  clerk  of  R ,  who,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary 

duties  of  his  office,  kept  the  registers  and  acted  as 
groom,  gardener,  and  footman  at  the  rectory.  A 
rather  pompous  rector's  wife  used  to  like  to  refer  at 
intervals  during  a  dinner-party  to  "  our  coachman 
says,"  "our  gardener  always  does  this,"  "our  foot- 
man is  .  .  .,"  leaving  the  impression  of  a  somewhat 
large  establishment.  The  dear  old  rector  used  to  dis- 
turb the  vision  of  a  large  retinue  by  saying,  "They  are 
all  one — old  Corby,  the  clerk." 

One  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  old  parish  clerks, 
whether  in  ancient  or  modern  times,  is  their  faithfulness 
to  their  church  and  to  their  clergyman.  We  notice 
this  again  and  again  in  the  biographies  of  many  of 
these  worthy  men  which  it  has  been  a  privilege  to 
study.  The  motto  of  the  city  of  Exeter,  Semper fidelis > 
might  with  truth  have  been  recorded  as  the  legend  of 
their  class.  This  fidelity  must  have  been  sorely  tried 
in  the  sad  days  of  the  Commonwealth  period,  when  the 
sufferings  of  the  clergy  began,  and  the  poor  clerk  had 
to  bid  farewell  to  his  beloved  pastor  and  welcome  and 


24  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

"sit  under  "  some  hard-visaged  Presbyterian  or  Puritan 
preacher. 

Isaac  Walton  tells  the  pathetic  story  of  the  faithful 
clerk  of  the  parish  of  Borne,  near  Canterbury,  where 
the  " Judicious"  Hooker  was  incumbent.  The  vicar 
and  clerk  were  on  terms  of  great  affection,  and  Hooker 
was  of  "so  mild  and  humble  a  nature  that  his  poor 
clerk  and  he  did  never  talk  but  with  both  their  hats 
on,  or  both  off,  at  the  same  time." 

This  same  clerk  lived  on  in  the  quiet  village  until 
the  third  or  fourth  year  of  the  Long  Parliament. 
Hooker  died  and  was  buried  at  Borne,  and  many 
people  used  to  visit  his  monument,  and  the  clerk  had 
many  rewards  for  showing  his  grave-place,  and  often 
heard  his  praises  sung  by  the  visitors,  and  used  to  add 
his  own  recollections  of  his  holiness  and  humility. 
But  evil  days  came ;  the  parson  of  Borne  was  seques- 
tered, and  a  Genevan  minister  put  into  his  good  living. 
The  old  clerk,  seeing  so  many  clergymen  driven  from 
their  homes  and  churches,  used  to  say,  "They  have 
sequestered  so  many  good  men,  that  I  doubt  if  my 
good  Master  Hooker  had  lived  till  now,  they  would 
have  sequestered  him  too." 

Walton  then  describes  the  conversion  of  the  church 
into  a  Genevan  conventicle.  He  wrote:  "It  was  not 
long  before  this  intruding  minister  had  made  a  party 
in  and  about  the  said  parish  that  was  desirous  to  re- 
ceive the  sacrament  as  at  Geneva :  to  which  end,  the 
day  was  appointed  for  a  select  company,  and  forms  and 
stools  set  about  the  altar  or  communion  table  for  them 
to  sit  and  eat  and  drink ;  but  when  they  went  about 
this  work,  there  was  a  want  of  some  joint-stools  which 
the  minister  sent  the  clerk  to  fetch,  and  then  to  fetch 
cushions.  When  the  clerk  saw  them  begin  to  sit 


ANTIQUITY  OF  THE   OFFICE  25 

down,  he  began  to  wonder ;  but  the  minister  bade  him 
cease  wondering  and  lock  the  church  door :  to  whom 
he  replied,  '  Pray  take  you  the  keys,  and  lock  me  out : 
I  will  never  more  come  into  this  church  ;  for  men  will 
say  my  Master  Hooker  was  a  good  man  and  a  great 
scholar ;  and  I  am  sure  it  was  not  used  to  be  thus  in 
his  days ':  and  report  says  this  old  man  went  presently 
home  and  died  ;  I  do  not  say  died  immediately,  but 
within  a  few  days  after.  But  let  us  leave  this  grateful 
clerk  in  his  quiet  grave." 

Another  faithful  clerk  was  William  Hobbes,  who 
served  in  the  church  and  parish  of  St.  Andrew, 
Plymouth.  Walker,  in  his  Sufferings  of  the  Clergy ', 
records  the  sad  story  of  his  death.  During  the  troubles 
of  the  Civil  War  period,  when  presumably  there  was 
no  clergyman  to  perform  the  last  rites  of  the  Church 
on  the  body  of  a  parishioner,  the  good  clerk  himself 
undertook  the  office,  and  buried  a  corpse,  using  the 
service  for  the  Burial  of  the  Dead  contained  in  the  Book 
of  Common  Prayer.  The  Puritans  were  enraged,  and 
threatened  to  throw  him  into  the  same  grave  if  he  came 
there  again  with  his  "  Mass-book"  to  bury  any  body  : 
which  "  worked  so  much  upon  his  Spirits,  that  partly 
with  Fear  and  partly  with  Grief,  he  Died  soon  after." 
He  died  in  1643,  and  the  accounts  of  the  church  show 
that  the  balance  of  his  salary  was  paid  to  his  widow. 

Many  such  faithful  clerks  have  devoted  their  years 
of  active  life  to  the  service  of  God  in  His  sanctuary, 
both  in  ancient  and  modern  times ;  and  it  will  be  our 
pleasurable  duty  to  record  some  of  the  biographies 
of  these  earnest  servants  of  the  Church,  whose  services 
are  too  often  disregarded. 

I  have  mentioned  the  continuity  of  the  clerk's  office, 
unbroken  by  either  Reformation  changes  or  by  the 
confusion  of  the  Puritan  regime.  We  will  now  en- 


26  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

deavour  to   sketch   the    appearance   of  the   mediaeval 
clerk,  and  the  numerous  duties  which  fell  to  his  lot. 

Chaucer's  gallery  of  ancient  portraits  contains  a  very 
life-like  presentment  of  a  mediaeval  clerk  in  the  person 
of  "  Jolly  Absolon,"  a  somewhat  frivolous  specimen  of 
his  class,  who  figures  largely  in  The  Miller's  Tale. 

"  Now  was  then  of  that  churche  a  parish  clerk 
The  which  that  was  y-cleped1  Absolon. 
Curl'd  was  his  hair,  and  as  the  gold  it  shone, 
And  strutted2  as  a  fanne  large  and  broad  ; 
Full  straight  and  even  lay  his  folly  shode.3 
His  rode4  was  red,  his  eyen  grey  as  goose, 
With  Paule's  windows  carven  on  his  shoes.8 
In  hosen  red  he  went  full  febishly.6 
Y-clad  he  was  full  small  and  properly, 
All  in  a  kirtle  of  a  light  waget  ;7 
Full  fair  and  thicke  be  the  pointes  set. 
And  thereupon  he  had  a  gay  surplice, 
As  white  as  is  the  blossom  on  the  rise.8 
A  merry  child  he  was,  so  God  me  save  ; 
Well  could  he  letten  blood,  and  clip,  and  shave, 
And  make  a  charter  of  land  and  a  quittance. 
In  twenty  manners  could  he  trip  and  dance, 
After  the  school  of  Oxenforde  tho',9 
And  with  his  legges  caste  to  and  fro  ; 
And  playen  songe's  or  a  small  ribible  ;10 
Thereto  he  sung  sometimes  a  loud  quinible.11 
And  as  well  could  he  play  on  a  gitern.ia 
In  all  the  town  was  brewhouse  nor  tavern 
That  he  not  visited  with  his  solas,13 
There  as  that  any  gaillard  tapstere14  was. 

This  Absolon,  that  jolly  was  and  gay 

Went  with  a  censor  on  the  holy  day, 

Censing  the  wives  of  the  parish  fast  : 

And  many  a  lovely  look  he  on  them  cast, 

Sometimes  to  show  his  lightness  and  mast'ry 
He  playeth  Herod  on  a  scaffold  high." 

1  Called.  2  Stretched.  8  Head  of  hair.  4  Complexion. 

6  His  shoes  were  decked  with  an  ornament  like  a  rose-window  in  old 
St.  Paul's.  «  Daintily.  '  A  kind  of  cloth.  8  A  bush. 

8  The  Oxford  school  of  dancing  is  satirised  by  the  poet. 
10  A  kind  of  fiddle.  »  Treble.  12  Guitar 

13  Sport,  mirth.  "  Tavern-wench. 


ANTIQUITY   OF  THE   OFFICE  27 

I  fear  me  Master  Absolon  was  a  somewhat  frivolous 
clerk,  or  his  memory  has  been  traduced  by  the  poet's 
pen,  which  lacked  not  satire  and  a  caustic  but  good- 
humoured  wit.  Here  was  a  parish  clerk  who  could 
sing  well,  though  he  did  not  confine  his  melodies  to 
"  Psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs."  He  wore 
a  surplice  ;  he  was  an  accomplished  scrivener,  and 
therefore  a  man  of  some  education  ;  he  could  perform 
the  offices  of  the  barber-surgeon,  and  one  of  his  duties 
was  to  cense  the  people  in  their  houses.  He  was  an 
actor  of  no  mean  repute,  and  took  a  leading  part  in  the 
mysteries  or  miracle-plays,  concerning  which  we  shall 
have  more  to  tell.  He  even  could  undertake  the 
prominent  part  of  Herod,  which  doubtless  was  an 
object  of  competition  among  the  amateurs  of  the 
period.  Such  is  the  picture  which  Chaucer  draws  of 
the  frivolous  clerk,  a  sketch  which  is  accurate  enough 
as  far  as  it  goes,  and  one  that  we  will  endeavour  to  fill 
in  with  sundry  details  culled  from  mediaeval  sources. 

Chaucer  tells  us  that  Jolly  Absolon  used  to  go  to  the 
houses  of  the  parishioners  on  holy  days  with  his  censer. 
His  more  usual  duty  was  to  bear  to  them  the  holy 
water,  and  hence  he  acquired  the  title  of  aqucebajalus. 
This  holy  water  consisted  of  water  into  which,  after 
exorcism,  blest  salt  had  been  placed,  and  then  duly 
sanctified  with  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  sacerdotal 
benediction.  We  can  see  the  clerk  clad  in  his  surplice 
setting  out  in  the  morning  of  Sunday  on  his  rounds. 
He  is  carrying  a  holy-water  vat,  made  of  brass  or 
wood,  containing  the  blest  water,  and  in  his  hand  is 
an  aspergillum  or  sprinkler.  This  consists  of  a  round 
brush  of  horse-hair  with  a  short  handle.  When  the 
clerk  arrives  at  the  great  house  of  the  village  he  first 
enters  the  kitchen,  and  seeing  the  cook  engaged  on  her 


28  THE    PARISH   CLERK 

household  duties,  he  dips  the  sprinkler  into  the  holy- 
water  vessel  and  shakes  it  towards  her,  as  in  the 
accompanying  illustration.  Then  he  visits  the  lord  and 
lady  of  the  manor,  who  are  sitting  at  meat  in  their 
solar,  and  asperges  them  in  like  manner.  For  his 
pains  he  receives  from  every  householder  some  gift, 
and  goes  on  his  way  rejoicing.  Bishop  Alexander,  of 
Coventry,  however,  in  his  constitutions  drawn  up  in 
the  year  1237,  ordered  that  no  clerk  who  serves  in  a 
church  may  live  from  the  fees  derived  from  this  source, 
and  the  penalty  of  suspension  was  to  be  inflicted  on 
any  one  who  should  transgress  this  rule.  The  consti- 
tutions of  the  parish  clerks  at  Trinity  Church, 
Coventry,  made  in  1462,  are  a  most  valuable  source  of 
information  with  regard  to  the  clerk's  duties. 

The  following  items  refer  to  the  orders  relating  to 
the  holy  water : 

"  Item,  the  dekyn  shall  bring-  a  woly  water  stoke  with 
water  for  hys  preste  every  Sonday  for  the  preste  to  make 
woly  water. 

"  Item,  the  said  dekyn  shall  every  Sonday  beyr  woly  water 
of  hys  chyldern  to  euery  howse  in  hys  warde,  and  he  to 
have  hys  duty  off  euery  man  affter  hys  degre  quarterly." 

At  the  church  of  St.  Nicholas,  Bristol,  in  1481,  it 
was  ordered  that  the  "  Clerke  to  ordeynn  spryngals1  for 
the  church,  and  for  him  that  visiteth  the  Sondays  and 
dewly  to  bere  his  holy  water  to  euery  howse  Aby- 
ding  soo  convenient  a  space  that  every  man  may  re- 
ceive hys  Holy  water  under  payne  of  iiiid  tociens 
quociens." 

.At  Faversham  a  set  of  parish  clerk's  duties  of  the 
years  1506,  1548,  and  1593  is  preserved.  In  the  rules 

1  Bunches  of  twigs  for  sprinkling  holy  water. 


THE   CLERK    HEARING    HOLY   WATER    AND   ASPERGING 
THE   COOK 


THE   CLERK   BEARING   HOLY    WATER   AND   ASPERGING 
THE   LORD   AND    LADY 


ANTIQUITY   OF  THE   OFFICE  29 

ordained  for  his  guidance  in  the  first-mentioned  year 
he  with  his  assistant  clerk  is  ordered  to  bear  holy  water 
to  every  man's  house,  as  of  old  time  hath  been  accus- 
tomed; in  case  of  default  he  shall  forfeit  8d. ;  but  if  he 
shall  be  very  much  occupied  on  account  of  a  principal 
feast  falling  on  a  Sunday  or  with  any  pressing  parochial 
business,  he  is  to  be  excused. 

A  mighty  dissension  disturbed  the  equanimity  of  the 
little  parish  of  Morebath  in  the  year  1531  and  con- 
tinued for  several  years.  The  quarrel  arose  concern- 
ing the  dues  to  be  paid  to  the  parish  clerk,  a  small 
number  of  persons  refusing  to  pay  the  just  demands. 
After  much  disputing  they  finally  came  to  an  agree- 
ment, and  one  of  the  items  was  that  the  clerk  should 
go  about  the  parish  with  his  holy  water  once  a  year, 
when  men  had  shorn  their  sheep  to  gather  some  wool 
to  make  him  a  coat  to  go  in  the  parish  in  his  livery. 
There  are  many  other  items  in  the  agreement  to  which 
we  shall  have  occasion  again  to  refer.  Let  us  hope 
that  the  good  people  of  Morebath  settled  down  amicably 
after  this  great  "  storm  in  a  tea-cup"  ;  but  this  godly 
union  and  concord  could  not  have  lasted  very  long,  as 
mighty  changes  were  in  progress,  and  much  upsetting 
of  old-established  custom  and  practice. 

The  clerk  continued  in  many  parishes  to  make  his 
accustomed  round  of  the  houses,  and  collected  money 
which  was  used  for  the  defraying  of  the  expenses  of 
public  worship  ;  but  he  left  behind  him  his  sprinkler 
and  holy-water  vat,  which  accorded  not  with  the  prin- 
ciples and  tenets,  the  practice  and  ceremonies  of  the 
reformed  Church  of  England. 

This  was,  however,  one  of  the  minor  duties  of  the 
mediaeval  clerk,  and  the  custom  of  giving  offerings  to 
him  seems  to  have  started  with  a  charitable  intent. 


3o  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

The  constitutions  of  Archbishop  Boniface  of  Canter- 
bury issued  in  1260  state  : 

"We  have  often  heard  from  our  elders  that  the 
benefices  of  holy  water  were  originally  instituted  from 
a  motive  of  charity,  in  order  that  one  of  their  proper 
poor  clerks  might  have  exhibitions  to  the  schools,  and 
so  advance  in  learning,  that  they  might  be  fit  for 
higher  preferment." 

He  had  many  other  and  more  important  duties  to 
perform,  duties  requiring  a  degree  of  education  far 
superior  to  that  which  we  are  accustomed  to  associate 
with  the  holders  of  his  office.  We  will  endeavour  to 
obtain  a  truer  sketch  of  him  than  even  that  drawn  by 
Chaucer,  and  to  realise  the  multitudinous  duties  which 
fell  to  his  lot,  and  the  great  services  he  rendered  to 
God  and  to  his  Church. 


CHAPTER    III 
THE   MEDIAEVAL   CLERK 

A"  the  present  time  loud  complaints  are  frequently 
heard  of  a  lack  of  clergy.  Rectors  and  vicars 
are  sighing  for  assistant  curates,  the  vast  populations 
of  our  great  cities  require  additional  ministration,  and 
the  mission  field  is  crying  out  for  more  labourers  to 
reap  the  harvests  of  the  world.  It  might  be  well  in 
this  emergency  to  inquire  into  the  methods  of  the 
mediaeval  Church,  and  observe  how  the  clergy  in  those 
days  faced  the  problem,  and  gained  for  themselves 
tried  and  trusty  helpers. 

One  method  of  great  utility  was  to  appoint  poor 
scholars  to  the  office  of  parish  clerk,  by  a  due  discharge 
of  the  duties  of  which  they  were  trained  to  serve  in 
church  and  in  the  parish,  and  might  ultimately  hope 
to  attain  to  the  ministry.  This  is  borne  out  by  the 
evidence  of  wills  wherein  some  good  incumbent,  grate- 
ful for  the  faithful  services  of  his  clerk,  bequeaths 
either  books  or  money  to  him,  in  order  to  enable  him 
to  prepare  himself  for  higher  preferment.  Thus  in 
1389  the  rector  of  Marum,  one  Robert  de  Weston, 
bequeaths  to  "John  Penne,  my  clerk,  a  missal  of  the 
New  Use  of  Sarum,  if  he  wishes  to  be  a  priest,  other- 
wise I  give  him  203."  In  1337  Giles  de  Gadlesmere 
leaves  "to  William  Ockam,  clerk,  two  shillings,  unless 
he  be  promoted  before  my  death."  Evidently  it  was 

3' 


32  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

no  unusual  practice  in  early  times  for  the  clerk  to  be 
raised  to  Holy  Orders,  his  office  being  regarded  as  a 
stepping-stone  to  higher  preferment.  The  status  of 
the  clerk  was  then  of  no  servile  character. 

A  canon  of  Newburgh  asked  for  Sir  William  Plump- 
ton's  influence  that  his  brother  might  have  a  clerkship.1 
Even  the  sons  of  kings  and  lords  did  not  consider  it 
beneath  the  dignity  of  their  position  to  perform  the 
duties  of  a  clerk,  and  John  of  Athon  considered  the 
office  of  so  much  importance  that  he  gave  the  following 
advice  to  any  one  who  held  it : 

"Whoever  you  may  be,  although  the  son  of  king, 
do  not  blush  to  go  up  to  the  book  in  church,  and  read 
and  sing  ;  but  if  you  know  nothing  of  yourself,  follow 
those  who  do  know." 

It  is  recorded  in  the  chronicle  of  Ralph  de  Cogges- 
hall  that  Richard  I  used  to  take  great  delight  in  divine 
service  on  the  principal  festivals ;  going  hither  and 
thither  in  the  choir,  encouraging  the  singers  by  voice 
and  hand  to  sing  louder.  In  the  Life  of  Sir  Thomas 
More,  written  by  William  Roper,  we  find  an  account  of 
that  charming  incident  in  the  career  of  the  great  and 
worthy  Lord  Chancellor,  when  he  was  discovered  by 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  who  had  come  to  Chelsea  to  dine 
with  him,  singing  in  the  choir  and  wearing  a  surplice 
during  the  service  of  the  Mass.  After  the  conclusion 
of  the  service  host  and  guest  walked  arm  in  arm  to  the 
house  of  Sir  Thomas  More. 

"  God's  body,  my  Lord  Chancellor,  what  turned 
Parish  Clerk?  You  dishonour  the  King  and  his  office 
very  much,"  said  the  Duke. 

"Nay,"  replied  Sir  Thomas,  smiling,   "your  grace 

1  Plumpton  Correspondence,  Catnden  Society,  1839,  p.  66,  temp. 
Henry  VII. 


THE   MEDIEVAL   CLERK  33 

may  not  think  that  the  King,  your  master  and  mine, 
will  be  offended  with  me  for  serving  his  Master,  or 
thereby  account  his  service  any  way  dishonoured." 

We  will  endeavour  to  sketch  the  daily  and  Sunday 
duties  of  a  parish  clerk,  follow  in  his  footsteps,  and 
observe  his  manners  and  customs,  as  they  are  set  forth 
in  mediaeval  documents. 

He  lived  in  a  house  near  the  church  which  was 
specially  assigned  to  him,  and  often  called  the  clerk's 
house.  He  had  a  garden  and  glebe.  In  the  church- 
wardens' accounts  of  St.  Giles's  Church,  Reading, 
there  is  an  item  in  1542-3: — "  Paid  for  a  latice  to 
the  clerkes  hous  iis  xd."  There  was  a  clerk's  house  in 
St.  Mary's  parish,  in  the  same  town,  which  is  fre- 
quently mentioned  in  the  accounts  (A.D.  1558-9). 

"  RESOLUTES  for  the  guyet  Rent  of  the  Clerkes  Howse 

x»d  1 559-60- 

' '  RENTES  to  farme  and  at  will.  Of  the  tenement  at  Cornyshe 
Crosse  called  the  clerkes  howse  by  the  yere  vis  viiiV 

It  appears  that  the  house  was  let,  and  the  sum  re- 
ceived for  rent  was  part  of  the  clerk's  stipend.  This  is 
borne  out  by  the  following  entry  : — 

"  Md'  that  yt  ys  aggreed  that  the  clerke  most  have  for  the 
office  of  the  sexten  But  xx8.  That  ys  for  Ringing  of  the  Bell 
v8  for  the  quarter  and  the  clerkes  wayges  by  the  howse."1 

Doubtless  there  still  remain  many  such  houses 
attached  to  the  clerkship,  as  in  the  Act  of  7  &  8  Vic- 
toria, c.  59,  sect.  6,  it  is  expressly  stated  that  any  clerk 
dismissed  from  his  office  shall  give  up  any  house, 
building,  land,  or  premises  held  or  occupied  by  virtue 
or  in  respect  of  such  office,  and  that  if  he  fail  to  do 

1  Churchwardens'  Accounts  of  St.  Mary's,  Reading,  by  F.  N.  A.  and 
A.  G.  Garry,  p.  42. 
D 


34  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

so  the  bishop  can  take  steps  for  his  ejection  therefrom. 
Mr.  Wickham  Legg  has  collected  several  other  in- 
stances of  the  existence  of  clerks'  houses.  At  St. 
Michael's  Worcester,  there  was  one,  as  in  1590  a  sum 
was  paid  for  mending  it.  At  St.  Edmund's,  Salisbury, 
the  clerk  had  a  house  and  garden  in  1653.  At  Barton 
Turf,  Norfolk,  three  acres  are  known  as  "  dog-whip- 
per's  land,"  the  task  of  whipping  dogs  out  of  churches 
being  part  of  the  clerk's  duties,  as  we  shall  notice  more 
particularly  later  on.  The  rent  of  this  land  was  given 
to  the  clerk.  At  Saltwood,  Kent,  the  clerk  had  a 
house  and  garden,  which  have  recently  been  sold.1 

Archbishop  Sancroft,  at  Fressingfield,  caused  a  com- 
fortable cottage  to  be  built  for  the  parish  clerk,  and 
also  a  kind  of  hostelry  for  the  shelter  and  accom- 
modation of  persons  who  came  from  a  distant  part 
of  that  large  scattered  parish  to  attend  the  church,  so 
that  they  might  bring  their  cold  provisions  there,  and 
take  their  luncheon  in  the  interval  between  the  morn- 
ing and  the  afternoon  service. 

There  was  a  clerk's  house  at  Ringmer.  In  the 
account  of  the  beating  of  the  bounds  of  the  parish  in 
Rogation  week,  1683,  it  is  recorded  that  at  the  close  of 
the  third  day  the  procession  arrived  at  the  Crab  Tree, 
when  the  people  sang  a  psalm,  and  "  our  minister  read 
the  epistle  and  gospel,  to  request  and  supplicate  the 
blessing  of  God  upon  the  fruits  of  the  earth.  Then 
did  Mr.  Richard  Gunn  invite  all  the  company  to  the 
clerKs  house,  where  he  expended  at  his  own  charge  a 
barrell  of  beer,  besides  a  plentiful  supply  of  provisions: 
and  so  ended  our  third  and  last  day's  perambulation."2 

1  The  Clerk's  Book  of  1349,  edited  by  J.  Wickham  Legg,  Ivi. 

2  Social  Life  as  told  by  Parish  Registers,  by  T.  F.  Thiselton-Dyer, 
p.  197. 


THE   MEDIAEVAL  CLERK  35 

In  his  little  house  the  clerk  lived  and  tended  his 
garden  when  he  was  not  engaged  upon  his  ecclesias- 
tical duties.  He  was  often  a  married  man,  although 
those  who  were  intending  to  proceed  to  the  higher 
orders  in  the  Church  would  naturally  be  celibate. 
Pope  Gregory,  in  writing  to  St.  Augustine  of  Canter- 
bury, offered  no  objections  to  the  marriage  of  clerks. 
Lyndewoode  shows  a  preference  for  the  unmarried  clerk, 
but  if  such  could  not  be  found,  a  married  clerk  might 
perform  his  duties.  Numerous  wills  are  in  existence 
which  show  that  very  frequently  the  clerk  was  blest 
with  a  wife,  inasmuch  as  he  left  his  goods  to  her  ;  and 
in  one  instance,  at  Hull,  John  Huyk,  in  1514,  ex- 
presses his  wish  to  be  buried  beside  his  wife  in  the 
wedding  porch  of  the  church.1 

One  courageous  clerk's  wife  did  good  service  to  her 
husband,  who  had  dared  to  speak  insultingly  of  the 
high  and  mighty  John  of  Gaunt.  He  held  office  in 
the  church  of  St.  Peter-the-Less,  in  the  City  ot 
London,  in  1378.  His  wife  was  so  persevering  in  her 
behests  and  so  constant  in  her  appeals  for  justice,  that 
she  won  her  suit  and  obtained  her  husband's  release.2 

We  have  the  picture,  then,  of  the  mediaeval  clerk  in 
his  little  house  nigh  the  church  surrounded  by  his  wife 
and  children,  or  as  a  bachelor  intent  upon  preferment 
poring  over  his  Missal,  if  he  did  not  sometimes 
emulate  the  frivolous  feats  of  Chaucer's  "  Jolly 
Absolon." 

At  early  dawn  he  sallied  forth  to  perform  his  earliest 
duty  of  opening  the  church  doors  and  ringing  the  day- 
bell.  The  ringing  of  bells  seems  to  have  been  a  fairly 

1  Injuncton  by  John  Bishop  of  Norwich  (1561),  B.  i  b.,  quoted  by 
Mr.  Legg  in  The  Parish  Clerk's  Book,  p.  xlii. 
3  Riley's  Memorials  of  London,  1868,  p.  425. 


36  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

constant  employment  of  the  clerk,  though  in  some 
churches  this  duty  was  mainly  performed  by  the  sexton, 
but  the  aid  of  the  clerk  was  demanded  whenever  it  was 
needed.  According  to  the  constitution  of  the  parish 
clerks  at  Trinity  Church,  Coventry,  made  in  1462,  he 
was  ordered  every  day  to  open  the  church  doors  at 
6  a.m.,  and  deliver  to  the  priest  who  sang  the  Trinity 
Mass  a  book  and  a  chalice  and  vestment,  and  when 
Mass  was  finished  to  see  that  these  goods  of  the  church 
be  deposited  in  safety  in  the  vestry.  He  had  to  ring 
all  the  people  in  to  Matins,  together  with  his  fellow- 
clerk,  at  every  commemoration  and  feast  of  IX  lessons, 
and  see  that  the  books  were  ready  for  the  priest. 
Again  for  High  Mass  he  rang  and  sang  in  the  choir. 
At  3  p.m.  he  rang  for  Evensong,  and  sang  the  service 
in  the  south  side  of  the  choir,  his  assistant  occupy- 
ing the  north  side.  On  week-days  they  sang  the 
Psalms  and  responses  antiphonally,  and  on  Sundays 
and  holy-days  acted  as  rectores  ckort,  each  one  begin- 
ning the  verses  of  the  Psalms  for  his  own  side.  He 
had  to  be  very  careful  that  the  books  were  all  securely 
locked  up  in  the  vestry,  and  the  church  locked  at  a 
convenient  hour,  having  searched  the  building  to  see 
lest  any  one  was  lying  in  any  seat  or  corner.  On 
Sundays  and  holidays  he  had  to  provide  a  clerk  or 
"  dekyn "  to  read  the  gospel  at  High  Mass.  The 
sweeping  of  the  floor  of  the  church,  the  cleaning  of 
the  leaden  roofs,  and  sweeping  away  the  snow  from  the 
gutters  "leste  they  be  stoppyd,"  also  came  under  his 
care.  The  bells  he  also  kept  in  order,  examining  the 
clappers  and  bawdricks  and  ropes,  and  reporting  to 
the  churchwardens  if  they  required  mending.  His 
assistant  had  to  grease  the  bells  when  necessary,  and 
find  the  materials.  He  had  to  tend  the  lamp  and  to 


THE   MEDIEVAL  CLERK  37 

fetch  oil  and  rychys  (rushes),  and  fix  banners  on 
holidays,  fold  up  the  albs  and  vestments.  On  Saturdays 
and  on  the  eve  of  saints'  days  he  had  to  ring  the  noon- 
tide bell,  and  to  ring  the  sanctus  bell  every  Sunday 
and  holy-day,  and  during  processions. 

Special  seasons  brought  their  special  duties,  and 
directions  are  minutely  given  with  regard  to  every  point 
to  be  observed.  On  Palm  Sunday  he  was  ordered  to 
set  a  form  at  the  priory  door  for  the  stations  of  the 
Cross,  so  that  a  crucifix  or  rood  should  be  set  there  for 
the  priest  to  sing  Ave  rex.  He  had  to  provide  palms 
for  that  Sunday,  watch  the  Easter  sepulchre  "till  the 
resurrecion  be  don,"  and  then  take  down  the  "  lenten 
clothys"  about  the  altar  and  the  rood.  In  Easter  week, 
when  a  procession  was  made,  he  bore  the  chrismatory. 
At  the  beginning  of  Lent  he  was  ordered  to  help  the 
churchwardens  to  cover  the  altar  and  rood  with  "len- 
tyn  clothys  "  and  to  hang  the  vail  in  the  choir.  The 
pulley  which  worked  this  vail  is  still  to  be  seen  in  some 
churches,  as  at  Uffington,  Berks.  For  this  labour  the 
churchwardens  were  to  give  money  to  the  clerk  for 
drink.  The  great  bell  had  to  be  rung  for  compline 
every  Saturday  in  Lent.  At  Easter  and  Whit-Sunday 
the  clerk  was  required  to  hang  a  towel  about  the  font, 
and  see  that  three  "copys"  (copes)  be  brought  down 
to  the  font  for  the  priests  to  sing  Rex  sanctorum. 

It  was  evidently  considered  the  duty  of  the  church- 
wardens to  deck  the  high  altar  for  great  festivals,  but 
they  were  to  have  the  assistance  of  the  clerk  at  the 
third  peal  of  the  first  Evensong  "to  aray  the  hye  awter 
with  clothys  necessary  for  it."  Perhaps  this  duty  of 
the  churchwardens  might  with  advantage  be  revived. 

Sheer  Thursday  or  Maundy  Thursday  was  a  special 
day  for  cleansing  the  altars  and  font,  which  was  done 


38  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

by  a  priest ;  but  the  clerk  was  required  to  provide  a 
birch  broom  and  also  a  barrel  in  order  that  water 
might  be  placed  in  it  for  this  purpose.  On  Easter 
Eve  and  the  eve  of  Whit-Sunday  the  ceremony  of 
cleaning  the  altar  and  font  was  repeated.  Flagella- 
tion was  not  obsolete  as  a  penance,  and  the  clerk  was 
expected  to  find  three  discipline  rods. 

In  mediaeval  times  it  was  a  common  practice  for 
rich  men  to  leave  money  or  property  to  a  church  with 
the  condition  that  Masses  should  be  said  for  the  repose 
of  their  souls  on  certain  days.  The  first  Latin  word 
of  a  verse  in  the  funeral  psalm  was  dirige  ("  direct  my 
steps,"  etc.),  and  this  verse  was  used  as  an  antiphon 
to  those  psalms  in  the  old  English  service  for  the  dead. 
Hence  the  service  was  called  a  dirige^  and  we  find 
mention  of  "  Master  Meynley's  dirige,"  or  as  it  is 
spelt  often  "derege,"  the  origin  of  the  word  "dirge." 
Those  who  attended  were  often  regaled  with  refresh- 
ments— bread  and  ale — and  the  clerk's  duty  was  to 
serve  them  with  these  things. 

We  have  already  referred  to  his  obligations  as  re- 
gards his  bearing  of  holy  water  to  the  parishioners, 
a  duty  which  brought  him  into  close  relationship  with 
them.  Another  custom  which  has  long  since  passed 
away  was  that  of  blessing  a  loaf  of  bread  by  the 
priest,  and  distributing  portions  of  it  to  the  parishioners. 
Sometimes  this  distribution  took  place  in  church,  as 
at  Coventry,  where  one  of  the  clerks,  having  seen  the 
loaf  duly  cut,  gave  portions  of  it  to  the  assembled 
worshippers  in  the  south  aisle,  and  the  other  clerk 
performed  a  like  duty  in  the  north  aisle.  The  clerk 
received  some  small  fee  for  this  service,  usually  a 
halfpenny.  Berkshire  has  several  evidences  of  the 
existence  of  the  holy  loaf. 


THE   MEDIEVAL   CLERK  39 

In  the  accounts  of  St.  Lawrence's  Church,  Reading, 
in  1551,  occurs  the  following  notice  : 

"  At  this  day  it  was  concluded  and  agreed  that  from 
henceforth  every  inhabitant  of  the  parish  shall  bear 
and  pay  every  Sunday  in  the  year  5d.  for  every  tene- 
ment as  of  old  time  the  Holy  Loaf  was  used  to  be 
paid  and  be  received  by  the  parish  clerk  weekly,  the 
said  clerk  to  have  every  Sunday  for  his  pains  id.  And 
4d.  residue  to  be  paid  and  delivered  every  Sunday  to 
the  churchwardens  to  be  employed  for  bread  and  wine 
for  the  communion.  And  if  any  overplus  thereof  shall 
be  of  such  money  so  received,  to  be  to  the  use  of  the 
church  ;  and  if  any  shall  lack,  to  be  borne  and  paid 
by  the  said  churchwardens  :  provided  always,  that  all 
such  persons  as  are  poor  and  not  able  to  pay  the  whole, 
be  to  have  aid  of  such  others  as  shall  be  thought  good 
by  the  discretion  of  the  churchwardens." 

With  the  advent  of  Queen  Mary  the  old  custom  was 
reverted  to,  as  the  following  item  for  the  year  1555 
plainly  shows : 

"  Rec.  of  money  gathered  for  the  holy  lofe  ix§  iiijd." 

At  St.  Mary's  Church  there  is  a  constant  allusion 
to  this  practice  from  the  year  1566-7  to  1617-18,  after 
which  date  the  payment  for  the  "holilofe"  seems  to 
have  been  merged  in  the  charge  for  seats.  In  1567-8 
the  following  resolution  was  passed  : 

4 'It  is  agreed  that  the  clerk  shall  hereafter  gather 
the  Holy  Loaf  money,  or  else  to  have  nothing  of  that 
money,  and  to  gather  all,  or  else  to  inform  the  parish 
of  them  that  will  not  pay." 

There  seems  to  have  been  some  difficulty  in  collect- 
ing this  money ;  so  it  was  agreed  in  1579-80  that 


40  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

"John  Marshall  shall  every  month  in  the  year  during 
the  time  that  he  shall  be  clerk,  gather  the  holy  loaf 
and  thereof  yield  an  account  to  the  churchwardens." 

Subsequently  we  constantly  meet  with  such  records 
as  the  following  : 

"  It'm  for  the  holy  loffe  xiii8  vid." 

Ultimately,  however,  this  mode  of  collecting  money 
for  the  providing  of  the  sacred  elements  and  defraying 
other  expenses  of  the  church  was,  as  we  have  said, 
abandoned  in  favour  of  pew-rents.  The  clerk  had 
long  ceased  to  obtain  any  benefit  from  the  custom  of 
collecting  this  curious  form  of  subscription  to  the 
parochial  expenses. 

An  interesting  document  exists  in  the  parish  of 
Stanford-in-the-Vale,  Berkshire,  relating  to  the  holy 
loaf.  It  was  evidently  written  during  the  reign  of 
Queen  Mary,  and  runs  as  follows : — 

"  Here  following  is  the  order  of  the  giving  of  the 
loaves  to  make  holy  bread  with  videlicit  of  when  it 
beginneth  and  endeth,  what  the  whole  value  is,  in 
what  portions  it  is  divided,  and  to  whom  the  portions 
be  due,  and  though  it  be  written  in  the  fifth  part  of 
the  division  of  the  book  before  in  the  beginning  with 
these  words  (how  money  shall  be  paid  towards  the 
charges  of  the  communion)  ye  shall  understand  that 
in  the  time  of  the  Schism  when  this  Realm  was 
divided  from  the  Catholic  Church,  the  which  was 
in  the  year  of  our  Lord  God  in  1547,  in  the  second 
year  of  King  Edward  the  Sixth,  all  godly  ceremonies 
and  good  uses  were  taken  out  of  the  church  within  this 
Realm,  and  then  the  money  that  was  bestowed  on  the 
holy  bread  was  turned  to  the  use  of  finding  bread  and 
wine  for  the  communion,  and  then  the  old  order  being 


THE   MEDIEVAL  CLERK  41 

brought  unto  his  [its]  pristine  state  before  this  book 
was  written  causeth  me  to  write  with  this  term."1 

The  order  of  the  giving  of  the  loaves  is  then  set 
forth,  beginning  at  a  piece  of  ground  called  Ganders 
and  continuing  throughout  the  parish,  together  with 
names  of  the  parishioners.  The  collecting  of  this 
sum  must  have  been  an  arduous  part  of  the  clerk's 
duty.  "And  thus  I  make  an  end  of  this  matter,"  as 
the  worthy  clergyman  at  Stanford-in-the-Vale  wrote  at 
the  conclusion  of  his  carefully  drawn  up  document.2 

In  addition  to  his  regular  wages  and  to  the  dues 
received  for  delivering  holy  water  and  in  connection 
with  the  holy  loaf,  the  clerk  enjoyed  sundry  other  per- 
quisites. At  Christmas  he  received  a  loaf  from  every 
house,  a  certain  number  of  eggs  at  Easter,  and  some 
sheaves  when  the  harvest  was  gathered  in.  Among 
the  documents  in  the  parish  chest  at  Morebath  there 
is  a  very  curious  manuscript  relating  to  a  prolonged 
quarrel  with  regard  to  the  dues  to  be  paid  to  the  clerk. 
This  took  place  in  the  year  1531  and  lasted  until  1536. 
This  document  throws  much  light  on  the  customary 
fees  and  gifts  paid  to  the  holder  of  this  office.  After 
endless  wrangling  the  parishioners  decided  that  the 
clerk  should  have  "a  steche  of  clene  corn  "  from  every 
household,  if  there  should  be  any  corn ;  if  not, 

1  The  spelling  of  the  words  I  have  ventured  to  modernise. 

a  A  relic  of  this  custom  existed  in  a  small  town  in  Dorset  fifty  years 
ago.  At  Easter  the  clerk  used  to  leave  at  the  house  of  each  pew-holder 
a  packet  of  Easter  cakes — thin  wafery  biscuits,  not  unlike  Jewish  Pass- 
over cakes.  The  packet  varied  according  to  the  size  of  the  family  and 
the  depth  of  the  master's  purse.  When  the  fussy  little  clerk  called  for 
his  Easter  offering,  at  one  house  he  found  53.  waiting  for  him,  as  a 
kind  of  payment  for  five  cakes.  The  shillings  were  quickly  transferred 
to  the  clerk's  pocket,  who  remarked,  "Five  shillings  is  handsome  for  the 
clerk,  sir ;  but  the  vicar  only  takes  gold." 

The  custom  of  the  clerk  carrying  round  the  parish  Easter  cakes  pre- 
vailed also  at  Milverton,  Somerset,  and  at  Langport  in  the  same  county. 


42  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

a  "steche  of  wotis"  (oats),  or  3d.  in  lieu  of  corn. 
Also  id.  a  quarter  from  every  household ;  at  every 
wedding  and  funeral  2d.  ;  at  shearing  time  enough 
wool  for  a  coat.  Moreover,  it  was  agreed  that  he 
should  have  a  clerk's  ale  in  the  church  house.  It  is 
well  known  that  church  ales  were  very  common  in 
mediaeval  times,  when  the  churchwardens  bought,  and 
received  presents  of,  a  large  quantity  of  malt  which 
they  brewed  into  beer.  The  village  folk  collected 
other  provisions,  and  assembled  in  the  church  house, 
where  there  were  spits  and  crocks  and  other  utensils 
for  dressing  a  feast.  Old  and  young  gathered  to- 
gether ;  the  churchwardens'  ale  was  sold  freely.  The 
young  folk  danced,  or  played  at  bowls  or  practised 
archery,  the  old  people  looking  gravely  on  and  enjoy- 
ing the  merry-making.  Such  were  the  old  church  ales, 
the  proceeds  of  which  were  devoted  to  the  maintenance 
of  the  poor  or  some  other  worthy  object.  An  arbour 
of  boughs  was  erected  in  the  churchyard  called  Robin 
Hood's  Bower,  where  the  maidens  collected  money 
for  the  "ales."  The  clerk  in  some  parishes,  as  at 
Morebath,  had  "an  ale"  at  Easter,  and  it  was  agreed 
that  "the  parish  should  help  to  drink  him  a  cost  of 
ale  in  the  church  house,"  which  duty  doubtless  the 
village  folk  carried  out  with  much  willingness  and 
regularity. 

Puritanism  gradually  killed  these  "ales."  Sabba- 
tarianism lifted  up  its  voice  against  them.  The  gather- 
ings waxed  merry,  sometimes  too  merry,  so  the  stern 
Puritan  thought,  and  the  ballad-singer  sang  profane 
songs,  and  the  maidens  danced  with  light-footed  step, 
and  it  was  all  very  wrong  because  they  were  breaking 
the  Sabbath  ;  and  the  ale  was  strong,  and  sometimes 
people  drank  too  much,  so  the  critics  said.  But  all 


THE   OLD   CHURCH-HOUSE   AT   HURST,    BERKSHIRE 

NOW   THE   CASTI.F.    INN 


THE   OLD   CHURCH-HOUSE   AT   UFFINGTON,  BERKS 

NOW    USED   AS   A   SCHOOL 


THE   MEDIAEVAL  CLERK  43 

reasonable  and  sober-minded  folk  were  not  opposed 
to  them,  and  in  reply  to  some  inquiries  instituted  by 
Archbishop  Laud,  the  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells  made 
the  following  report : 

"  Touching  clerke-ales  (which  are  lesser  church-ales) 
for  the  better  maintenance  of  Parish-clerks  they  have 
been  used  (until  of  late)  in  divers  places,  and  there  was 
great  reason  for  them  ;  for  in  poor  country  parishes, 
where  the  wages  of  the  clerk  is  very  small,  the  people 
thinking  it  unfit  that  the  clerk  should  duly  attend  at 
church  and  lose  by  his  office,  were  wont  to  send  in 
Provisions,  and  then  feast  with  him,  and  give  him 
more  liberality  than  their  quarterly  payments  would 
amount  unto  in  many  years.  And  since  these  have 
been  put  down,  some  ministers  have  complained  unto 
me,  that  they  are  afraid  they  shall  have  no  parish 
clerks  for  want  of  maintenance  for  them." 

Mr.  Wickham  Legg  has  investigated  the  subsequent 
history  of  this  good  Bishop  Pierce,  and  shows  how  the 
Puritans  when  they  were  in  power  used  this  reply  as 
a  means  of  accusation  against  him,  whereby  they 
attempted  to  prove  that  "he  profanely  opposed  the 
sanctification  of  the  Lord's  Day  by  approving  and 
allowing  of  profane  wakes  and  revels  on  that  day," 
and  was  "a  desperately  profane,  impious,  and  turbu- 
lent Pilate." 

It  is  well  known  that  the  incomes  of  the  clergy  were 
severely  taxed  by  the  Pope,  who  demanded  annates  or 
first-fruits  of  one  year's  value  on  all  benefices  and 
sundry  other  exactions.  The  poor  clerk's  salary  did 
not  always  escape  from  the  rapacity  of  the  Pope's  col- 
lectors, as  the  story  told  by  Matthew  Paris  clearly 
sets  forth  : 


44  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

"  It  happened  that  an  agent  of  the  Pope  met  a  petty 
clerk  carrying  water  in  a  little  vessel,  with  a  sprinkler 
and  some  bits  of  bread  given  him  for  having  sprinkled 
some  holy  water,  and  to  him  the  deceitful  Roman  thus 
addressed  himself: 

"  '  How  much  does  the  profits  yielded  to  you  by  this 
church  amount  to  in  a  year?'  To  which  the  clerk, 
ignorant  of  the  Roman's  cunning,  replied  : 

"  'To  twenty  shillings,  I  think.' 

''Whereupon  the  agent  demanded  the  percentage 
the  Pope  had  just  demanded  on  all  ecclesiastical  bene- 
fices. And  to  pay  that  sum  this  poor  man  was 
compelled  to  hold  school  for  many  days,  and  by 
selling  his  books  in  the  precincts,  to  drag  on  a  half- 
starved  life." 

This  story  discloses  another  duty  which  fell  to  the  lot 
of  the  mediaeval  clerk.  He  was  the  parish  school- 
master— at  least  in  some  cases.  The  decretals  of 
Gregory  IX  require  that  he  should  have  enough  learn- 
ing in  order  to  enable  him  to  keep  a  school,  and  that 
the  parishioners  should  send  their  children  to  him  to 
be  taught  in  the  church.  There  is  not  much  evidence 
of  the  carrying  out  of  this  rule,  but  here  and  there  we 
find  allusions  to  this  part  of  a  clerk's  duties.  Inas- 
much as  this  may  have  been  regarded  as  an  occupation 
somewhat  separate  from  his  ordinary  duties  as  regards 
the  church,  perhaps  we  should  not  expect  to  find  con- 
stant allusion  to  it.  However,  Archbishop  Peckham 
ordered,  in  1280,  that  in  the  church  of  Bakewell  and  the 
chapels  annexed  to  it  there  should  be  duos  clericos 
scholasticos  carefully  chosen  by  the  parishioners,  from 
whose  alms  they  would  have  to  live,  who  should  carry 
holy  water  round  in  the  parish  and  chapels  on  Lord's 


THE   MEDIAEVAL  CLERK  45 

Days  and  festivals,  and  minister  in  divinis  officiis,  and 
on  weekdays  should  keep  school.1  It  is  said  that  Alex- 
ander, Bishop  of  Coventry,  in  1237,  directed  that  there 
should  be  in  country  villages  parish  clerks  who  should 
be  schoolmasters. 

It  is  certain — for  the  churchwarden  accounts  bear 
witness  to  the  fact — that  in  several  parishes  the  clerks 
performed  this  duty  of  teaching.  Thus  in  the  accounts 
of  the  church  of  St.  Giles,  Reading,  occurs  the  fol- 
lowing : 

Payd  to  Whitborne  the  clerk  towards  his  wages  and 
he  to  be  bound  to  teach  ij  children  for  the  choir     .     xij" 

At  Faversham,  in  1506,  it  was  ordered  that  "the 
clerks  or  one  of  them,  as  much  as  in  them  is,  shall 
endeavour  themselves  to  teach  children  to  read  and 
sing  in  the  choir,  and  to  do  service  in  the  church  as  of 
old  time  hath  been  accustomed,  they  taking  for  their 
teaching  as  belongeth  thereto  "  ;  and  at  the  church  of 
St.  Nicholas,  Bristol,  in  1481,  this  duty  of  teaching  is 
implied  in  the  order  that  the  clerk  ought  not  to  take 
any  book  out  of  the  choir  for  children  to  learn  in 
without  licence  of  the  procurators.  We  may  conclude, 
therefore,  that  the  task  of  teaching  the  children  of  the 
parish  not  unusually  devolved  upon  the  clerk,  and  that 
some  knowledge  of  Latin  formed  part  of  the  instruc- 
tion given,  which  would  be  essential  for  those  who 
took  part  in  the  services  of  the  church. 

Nor  were  his  labours  yet  finished.  In  John  Myrc's 
Instructions  to  Parish  Priests,  a  poem  written  not  later 
than  1450,  a  treatise  containing  good  sound  morality, 

1  If  that  is  the  correct  translation  of  profestis  diebus  disciplines 
scolasticis  indulgcntes.  Dr.  Legg  thinks  that  it  may  refer  to  their  own 
education. 


46  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

and  a  good  sight  of  the  ecclesiastical  customs  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  we  find  the  following  lines  : 

"  When  thou  shalt  to  seke1  gon 
Hye  thee  fast  and  go  a-non  ; 
For  if  thou  tarry  thou  dost  amiss, 
Thou  shalt  guyte2  that  soul  I  wys. 
When  thou  shalt  to  seke  gon, 
A  clene  surples  caste  thee  on  ; 
Take  thy  stole  with  thee  ry't,3 
And  put  thy  hod  ouer  thy  sy't4 
Bere  thyne  ost5  a-nout  thy  breste 
In  a  box  that  is  honeste  ; 
Make  thy  clerk  before  thee  synge, 
To  bere  light  and  belle  ringe." 

It  was  customary,  therefore,  for  the  clerk  to  accom- 
pany the  priest  to  the  house  of  the  sick  person,  when 
the  clergyman  went  to  administer  the  Last  Sacrament  or 
to  visit  the  suffering.  The  clerk  was  required  to  carry 
a  lighted  candle  and  ring  a  bell,  and  an  ancient  MS. 
of  the  fourteenth  century  represents  him  marching  be- 
fore the  priest  bearing  his  light  and  his  bell.  In  some 
town  parishes  he  was  ordered  always  to  be  at  hand 
ready  to  accompany  the  priest  on  his  errands  of  mercy. 
It  was  a  grievous  offence  for  a  clerk  to  be  absent  from 
this  duty.  In  the  parish  of  St.  Stephen's,  Coleman 
Street,  the  clerks  were  not  allowed  "to  go  or  ride  out 
of  the  town  without  special  licence  had  of  the  vicar 
and  churchwardens,  and  at  no  time  were  they  to  be 
out  of  the  way,  but  one  of  them  had  always  to  be 
ready  to  minister  sacraments  and  sacramentals,  and 
to  wait  upon  the  Curate  and  to  give  him  warning." 
This  custom  of  the  clerk  accompanying  the  priest  when 
visiting  the  sick  was  not  abolished  at  the  Reformation. 
The  Parish  Clerk's  Guide,  published  by  the  Worshipful 
Company  of  Parish  Clerks  in  1731,  the  history  of 

1  Sick.          a  Quiet.          3  Right.          4  Sight.          B  Host. 


THE  CLERK   ACCOMPANYING   THE   PRIEST 
WHEN   VISITING  THE  SICK 


THE   CLERK   ATTENDING   THE   PRIEST,   WHO   IS 
ADMINISTERING  THE   LAST  SACRAMENT 


THE   MEDIEVAL   CLERK  47 

which  it  will  be  our  privilege  to  investigate,  states  that 
the  holders  of  the  office  "are  always  conversant  in 
Holy  Places  and  Holy  Things,  such  as  are  the  Holy 
Sacraments  of  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper ;  yea 
and  in  the  most  serious  Things  too,  such  as  the 
Visitation  of  the  Sick,  when  we  do  often  attend, 
and  at  the  Burial  of  the  Dead." 

Occupied  with  these  numerous  duties,  engaged  in  a 
service  which  delighted  him,  his  time  could  never  have 
hung  heavy  on  his  hands.  Faithful  in  his  dutiful 
services  to  his  rector,  beloved  by  the  parishioners,  a 
welcome  guest  in  cot  and  hall,  and  serving  God  with 
all  his  heart,  according  to  his  lights,  he  could  doubtless 
exclaim  with  David,  Lcetus  sorte  mea. 


CHAPTER   IV 
THE   DUTIES   OF   READING  AND   SINGING 

THE  clerk's  highest  privilege  in  pre-Reformation 
times  was  to  take  his  part  in  the  great  services  of 
the  church.  His  functions  were  very  important,  and 
required  considerable  learning  and  skill.  When  the 
songs  of  praise  echoed  through  the  vaulted  aisles  of 
the  great  church,  his  voice  was  heard  loud  and  clear 
leading  the  choirmen  and  chanting  the  opening  words 
of  the  Psalm.  As  early  as  the  time  of  St.  Gregory 
this  duty  was  required  of  him.  In  giving  directions  to 
St.  Augustine  of  Canterbury  the  Pope  ordered  that 
clerks  should  be  diligent  in  singing  the  Psalms.  In 
the  ninth  century  Pope  Leo  IV  directed  that  the  clerks 
should  read  the  Psalms  in  divine  service,  and  in  878 
Archbishop  Hincmar  of  Rheims  issued  some  articles 
of  inquiry  to  his  Rural  Deans,  asking,  among  other 
questions,  "Whether  the  presbyter  has  a  clerk  who  can 
keep  school,  or  read  the  epistle,  or  is  able  to  sing  as 
far  as  may  seem  needful  to  him  ?  " 

A  canon  of  the  Council  of  Nantes,  embodied  in  the 
Decretals  of  Pope  Gregory  IX,  settled  definitely  that 
every  presbyter  who  has  charge  of  a  parish  should 
have  a  clerk,  who  should  sing  with  him  and  read  the 
epistle  and  lesson,  and  who  should  be  able  to  keep 
school  and  admonish  the  parishioners  to  send  their 

48 


DUTIES   OF    READING  AND   SINGING          49 

children  to  church  to  learn  the  faith.1  This  ordinance 
was  binding  upon  the  Church  in  this  country  as  in 
other  parts  of  Western  Christendom,  and  William 
Lyndewoode,  Official  Principal  of  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  when  laying  down  the  law  with  regard  to 
the  marriage  of  clerks,  states  that  the  clerk  has  "to 
wait  on  the  priest  at  the  altar,  to  sing  with  him,  and 
to  read  the  epistle."  A  notable  quarrel  between  two 
clerks,  which  is  recorded  by  John  of  Athon  writing  in 
the  years  1333-1348,  gives  much  information  upon 
various  points  of  ecclesiastical  usage  and  custom.  The 
account  says : 

"  Lately,  when  two  clerks  were  contending  about 
the  carrying  of  holy  water,  the  clerk  appointed  by 
the  parishioners  against  the  command  of  the  priest, 
wrenched  the  book  from  the  hands  of  the  clerk  who 
had  been  appointed  by  the  rector,  and  who  had  been 
ordered  to  read  the  epistle  by  the  priest,  and  hurled 
him  violently  to  the  ground,  drawing  blood."2 

A  very  unseemly  disturbance  truly !  Two  clerks 
fighting  for  the  book  in  the  midst  of  the  sanctuary 
during  the  Eucharistic  service !  Still  their  quarrel 
teaches  us  something  about  the  appointment  and  elec- 
tion of  clerks  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  of  the  duty 
of  the  parish  clerk  with  regard  to  the  reading  of  the 
epistle. 

In  1411  the  vicar  of  Elmstead  was  enjoined  by  Clif- 
ford, Bishop  of  London,  to  find  a  clerk  to  help  him  at 
private  Masses  on  weekdays,  and  on  holy  days  to  read 
the  epistle. 

1  Deer.  Greg-.  IX.     Lib.  III.  tit.  i.  cap.  Hi.,  quoted  by  Dr.  Cuthbert 
Atchley  in  Alcuin  Club  Tracts,  IV. 

2  John  of  Athon,  Constit.  Dom.  Othoboni,  tit.  De  residentia  archipreb. 
et  episc.:  cap.  Pastor  bonus:  verb  sanctce  obedientia. 

£ 


5o  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

In  the  rules  laid  down  for  the  guidance  of  clerks  at 
the  various  churches  we  find  many  references  to  the 
duties  of  reading  and  singing.  At  Coventry  he  is  re- 
quired to  sing  in  the  choir  at  the  Mass,  and  to  sing 
Evensong  on  the  south  side  of  the  choir ;  on  feast 
days  the  first  clerk  was  ordered  to  be  rector  chori  on 
the  south  side,  while  his  fellow  performed  a  like  duty 
on  the  north  side.  On  every  Sunday  and  holy  day  the 
latter  had  to  read  the  epistle.  At  Faversham  the  clerk 
was  required  to  sing  at  every  Mass  by  note  the  Grail  at 
the  upper  desk  in  the  body  of  the  choir,  and  also  the 
epistle,  and  to  be  diligent  to  sing  all  the  office  of  the 
Mass  by  note,  and  at  all  other  services.  Very  careful 
instructions  were  laid  down  for  the  proper  musical 
arrangements  in  this  church.  The  clerk  was  ordered 
"to  set  the  choir  not  after  his  own  brest  (  =  voice)  but 
as  every  man  being  a  singer  may  sing  conveniently  his 
part,  and  when  plain  song  faileth  one  of  the  clerks 
shall  leave  faburdon1  and  keep  plain  song  unto  the 
time  the  choir  be  set  again."  A  fine  of  2d.  was  levied 
on  all  clerks  as  well  as  priests  at  St.  Michael's,  Corn- 
hill,  who  should  be  absent  from  the  church,  and  not 
take  their  places  in  the  choir  in  their  surplices,  singing 
there  from  the  beginning  of  Matins,  Mass  and  Even- 
song unto  the  end  of  the  services.  At  St.  Nicholas, 
Bristol,  the  clerk  was  ordered  "to  sing  in  reading  the 
epistle  daily  under  pain  of  iid." 

These  various  rules  and  regulations,  drawn  up  with 
consummate  care,  together  with  the  occasional  glimpses 
of  the  mediaeval  clerk  and  his  duties,  which  old  writers 
afford,  enable  us  to  picture  to  ourselves  what  kind  of 

1  Faburdon  —  faux-bourdon,  a  simple  kind  of  counterpoint  to  the 
church  plain  song-,  much  used  in  England  in  the  fifteenth  century. 
Grove's  Dictionary  of  Music. 


DUTIES   OF   READING   AND   SINGING          51 

person  he  was,  and  to  see  him  engaged  in  his  manifold 
occupations  within  the  same  walls  which  we  know  so 
well.  When  the  daylight  is  dying,  musing  within  the 
dim  mysterious  aisle,  we  can  see  him  folding  up  the 
vestments,  bearing  the  books  into  their  place  of  safe 
keeping  in  the  vestry,  singing  softly  to  himself: 

llEt  introibo  ad  altare  Dei;  ad  Deum  qui  Icetificat 
juventutem  meam." 

The  scene  changes.  The  days  of  sweeping  reform 
set  in.  The  Church  of  England  regained  her  ancient 
independence  and  was  delivered  from  a  foreign  yoke. 
Her  children  obtained  an  open  Bible,  and  a  liturgy  in 
their  own  mother-tongue.  But  she  was  distressed  and 
despoiled  by  the  rapacity  of  the  commissioners  of  the 
Crown,  by  such  wretches  as  Protector  Somerset,  Dudley 
and  the  rest,  private  peculation  eclipsing  the  greediness 
of  royal  officials.  Froude  draws  a  sad  picture  of  the  halls 
of  country  houses  hung  with  altar  cloths,  tables  and 
beds  quilted  with  copes,  and  knights  and  squires  drink- 
ing their  claret  out  of  chalices  and  watering  their  horses 
in  marble  coffins.  No  wonder  there  was  discontent 
among  the  people.  No  wonder  they  disliked  the  despoil- 
ing of  their  heritage  for  the  enrichment  of  the  Dudleys 
and  the  nouveaux  riches  who  fattened  on  the  spoils  of 
the  monasteries,  and  left  the  church  bare  of  brass  and 
ornament,  chalice  and  vestment,  the  accumulation  of 
years  of  the  pious  offerings  of  the  faithful.  No  wonder 
there  were  risings  and  riots,  quelled  only  by  the  stern 
and  powerful  hand  of  a  Tudor  despot. 

But  in  spite  of  all  the  changes  that  were  wrought  in 
that  tumultuous  time,  the  parish  clerk  remained,  and 
continued  to  discharge  many  of  the  functions  which 
had  fallen  to  his  lot  before  the  Reformation  had  begun. 
As  I  have  already  stated,  his  duties  with  regard  to 


52  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

bearing  holy  water  and  the  holy  loaf  were  discontinued, 
although  the  collecting  of  money  from  the  parishioners 
was  conducted  in  much  the  same  way  as  before,  and 
the  "holy  loaf"  corrupted  into  various  forms — such  as 
"holy  looff,"  "holie  loffe,"  "holy  cake,"  etc. — appears 
in  churchwardens'  account  books  as  late  as  the  begin- 
ning of  the  seventeenth  century. 

As  regards  his  main  duties  of  reading  and  singing 
we  find  that  they  were  by  no  means  discontinued. 
From  a  study  of  the  First  Prayer  Book  of  Edward  VI, 
it  is  evident  that  his  voice  was  still  to  be  heard  reading 
in  reverent  tones  the  sacred  words  of  Holy  Scripture, 
and  chanting  the  Psalms  in  his  mother-tongue  instead 
of  in  that  of  the  Vulgate.  The  rubric  in  the  com- 
munion service  immediately  before  the  epistle  directs 
that  "the  collectes  ended,  the  priest,  or  he  that  is 
appointed,  shall  read  the  epistle,  in  a  place  assigned 
for  the  purpose."  Who  is  the  person  signified  by  the 
phrase  "he  that  is  appointed"?  That  question  is 
decided  for  us  by  The  Clerk's  Book  recently  edited  by 
Dr.  J.  Wickham  Legg,  wherein  it  is  stated  that  "the 
priest  or  clerk"  shall  read  the  epistle.  The  injunctions 
of  1547  interpret  for  us  the  meaning  of  "the  place 
assigned  for  the  purpose"  as  being  "the  pulpit  or  such 
convenient  place  as  people  may  hear."  Ability  to 
read  the  epistle  was  still  therefore  considered  part 
of  the  functions  of  a  parish  clerk,  and  the  whole 
lesson  derived  from  a  study  of  The  Clerk's  Book  is  the 
very  important  part  which  he  took  in  the  services. 
As  the  title  of  the  book  shows,  it  contains  "All  that 
appertein  to  the  clerkes  to  say  or  syng  at  the  Minis- 
tracion  of  the  Communion,  and  when  there  is  no 
Communion.  At  Confirmacion.  At  Matrimonie.  The 
Visitacion  of  the  Sicke.  The  Buriall  of  the  Dedde. 


DUTIES   OF   READING   AND   SINGING          53 

At  the  Purification  of  Women.  And  the  first  daie  of 
Lent." 

He  began  the  service  of  Holy  Communion  by  singing 
the  Psalm  appointed  for  the  introit.  In  the  book  only 
the  first  words  of  the  part  taken  by  the  priest  are  given, 
whereas  all  the  clerk's  part  is  printed  in  full.  He  leads 
the  responses  in  the  Lesser  Litany,  the  Gloria  in  ex- 
celsis,  the  Nicene  Creed.  He  reads  the  offertory 
sentences  and  says  the  Ter  Sanctus,  sings  or  says  the 
Agnus  Dei,  besides  the  responses.  In  the  Marriage 
Service  he  said  or  sang  the  Psalm  with  the  priest,  and 
responded  diligently.  As  in  pre-Reformation  times  he 
accompanied  the  priest  in  the  visitation  of  the  sick, 
and  besides  making  the  responses  sang  the  anthems, 
"Remember  not,  Lord,  our  iniquities,"  etc.,  and  "  O 
Saviour  of  the  world,  save  us,  which  by  thy  crosse  and 
precious  blood  hast  redeemed  us,  help  us,  we  beseech 
thee,  O  God."  In  the  Communion  of  the  Sick  the 
epistle  is  written  out  in  full,  showing  that  it  was  the 
clerk's  privilege  to  read  it.  A  great  part  of  the  service 
for  the  Burial  of  the  Dead  was  ordered  to  be  said  or 
sung  by  the  "  priest  or  clerk,"  and  "at  the  communion 
when  there  was  a  burial"  he  apparently  sang  the  introit 
and  read  the  epistle.  In  the  Communion  Service  the 
clerk  with  the  priest  said  the  fifty-first  Psalm  and  the 
anthem,  "Turn  thou  us,  O  good  Lord,"  etc.  In  Matins 
and  Evensong  the  clerk  sang  the  Psalms  and  canticles 
and  made  responses,  and  from  other  sources  we  gather 
that  he  used  to  read  either  one  or  both  of  the  lessons. 
In  some  churches  he  was  called  the  dekyn  or  deacon, 
and  at  Ludlow,  in  1551,  he  received  35.  4d.  for  reading 
the  first  lesson. 

In  the  accounts  of  St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  there 
is  an  item  in  the  year  1553  for  the  repair  of  the  pulpit 


54  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

where,  it  is  stated,  "the  curate  and  the  dark  did  read 
the  chapters  at  service  time." 

Archbishop  Grindal,  in  1571,  laid  down  the  follow- 
ing injunction  for  his  province  of  York:  "That  no 
parish  clerk  be  appointed  against  the  goodwill  or  with- 
out the  consent  of  the  parson,  vicar,  or  curate  of  any 
parish,  and  that  he  be  obedient  to  the  parson,  vicar, 
and  curate,  specially  in  the  time  of  celebration  of 
divine  service  or  of  sacraments,  or  in  any  preparation 
thereunto  ;  and  that  he  be  able  also  to  read  the  first 
lesson,  the  Epistle,  and  the  Psalms,  with  answers  to 
the  suffrages  as  is  used,  and  also  that  he  endeavour 
himself  to  teach  young  children  to  read,  if  he  be  able 
so  to  do."  When  this  archbishop  was  translated  to 
Canterbury  he  issued  very  similar  injunctions  in  the 
southern  province.  Other  bishops  followed  his  ex- 
ample, and  issued  questions  in  their  dioceses  relating 
to  clerkly  duties,  and  these  injunctions  show  that  to 
read  the  first  lesson  and  the  epistle  and  to  sing  the 
Psalms  constituted  the  principal  functions  of  a  parish 
clerk. 

Evidences  of  the  continuance  of  this  practice  are 
not  wanting.1  Indeed,  within  the  memory  of  living 
men  at  one  church  at  least  the  custom  was  observed. 
At  Keighley,  in  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire,  some 
thirty  or  forty  years  ago  the  parish  clerk  wore  a  black 
gown  and  bands.  He  read  the  first  lesson  and  the 
epistle.  To  read  the  latter  he  left  his  seat  below  the 
pulpit  and  went  up  to  the  altar  and  took  down  the 
book :  after  reading  the  epistle  within  the  altar  rails 
he  replaced  the  book  and  returned  to  his  place. 

1  cf.  The  Parish  Clerk's  Book,  edited  by  Dr.  J.  Wickham  Leg-g-,  F.S.A., 
and  The  Parish  Clerk  and  his  right  to  read  the  Liturgical  Epistle,  by 
Cuthbert  Atchley,  L.R.C.P.,  M.R.C.S.  (Alcitin  Club  Tracts,  IV). 


DUTIES   OF   READING   AND   SINGING          55 

At  Wimborne  Minster  the  clerk  used  to  read  the 
Lessons. 

Although  it  is  evident  that  at  the  present  time  the 
clerk  has  a  right  to  read  the  epistle  and  one  of  the 
lessons,  as  well  as  the  Psalms  and  responses  when 
they  are  not  sung,  it  was  perhaps  necessary  that  his 
efforts  in  this  direction  should  have  been  curtailed. 
When  we  remember  the  extraordinary  blunders  made 
by  many  holders  of  the  office  in  the  last  century,  their 
lack  of  education,  and  strange  pronunciation,  we 
should  hardly  care  to  hear  the  mutilation  of  Holy 
Scripture  which  must  have  followed  the  continuance 
of  the  practice.  Would  it  not  be  possible  to  find  men 
qualified  to  hold  the  office  of  parish  clerk  by  education 
and  powers  of  elocution  who  could  revive  the  ancient 
practice  with  advantage  to  the  church  both  to  the 
clergyman  and  the  people? 

Complaints  about  the  eccentricities  and  defective 
reading  and  singing  of  clerks  have  come  down  to  us 
from  Jacobean  times.  There  was  one  Thomas  Mil- 
borne,  clerk  of  Eastham,  who  was  guilty  of  several 
enormities;  amongst  others,  "for  that  he  singeth  the 
psalms  in  the  church  with  such  a  jesticulous  tone  and 
altisonant  voice,  viz :  squeaking  like  a  gelded  pig, 
which  doth  not  only  interrupt  the  other  voices,  but  is 
altogether  dissonant  and  disagreeing  unto  any  musical 
harmony,  and  he  hath  been  requested  by  the  minister 
to  leave  it,  but  he  doth  obstinately  persist  and  continue 
therein."  Verily  Master  Milborne  must  have  been  a 
sore  trial  to  his  vicar,  almost  as  great  as  the  clerk  of 
Buxted,  Sussex,  was  to  his  rector,  who  records  in  the 
parish  register  with  a  sigh  of  relief  his  death,  "whose 
melody  warbled  forth  as  if  he  had  been  thumped  on 
the  back  with  a  stone." 


56  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

The  Puritan  regime  was  not  conducive  to  this  im- 
provement of  the  status  or  education  of  the  clerk  or  the 
cultivation  of  his  musical  abilities.  The  Protectorate 
was  a  period  of  musical  darkness.  The  organs  of  the 
cathedrals  and  colleges  were  taken  down ;  the  choirs  were 
dispersed,  musical  publications  ceased,  and  the  gradual 
twilight  of  the  art,  which  commenced  with  the  accession 
of  the  Stuarts,  faded  into  darkness.  Many  clerks, 
especially  in  the  City  of  London,  deserve  the  highest 
honour  for  having  endeavoured  to  preserve  the  true 
taste  for  musical  services  in  a  dark  age.  Notable 
amongst  these  was  John  Playford,  clerk  of  the  Temple 
Church  in  1652.  Benjamin  Payne,  clerk  of  St.  Anne's, 
Blackfriars,  in  1685,  the  author  of  The  Parish  Clerk's 
Guide,  wrote  of  Playford  as  "one  to  whose  memory  all 
parish  clerks  owe  perpetual  thanks  for  their  further- 
ance in  the  knowledge  of  psalmody."  The  History 
of  Music ,  by  Hawkins,  describes  him  as  "  an  honest  and 
friendly  man,  a  good  judge  of  music,  with  some  skill 
in  composition.  He  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  art 
of  printing  music  from  letterpress  types.  He  is 
looked  upon  as  the  father  of  modern  psalmody,  and  it 
does  not  appear  that  the  practice  has  much  improved." 
The  account  which  Playford  gives  of  the  clerks  of  his 
day  is  not  very  satisfactory,  and  their  sorry  condition  is 
attributed  to  "the  late  wars"  and  the  confusion  of  the 
times.  He  says  : 

"In  and  about  this  great  city,  in  above  a  hundred 
parishes  there  are  but  few  parish  clerks  to  be  found  that 
have  either  ear  or  understanding  to  set  one  of  these  tunes 
musically,  as  it  ought  to  be,  it  having  been  a  custom 
during  the  late  wars,  and  since,  to  chuse  men  into 
such  places  more  for  their  poverty  than  skill  and 
ability,  whereby  that  part  of  God's  service  hath  been  so 


DUTIES   OF   READING   AND   SINGING          57 

ridiculously  performed  in  most  places,  that  it  is  now 
brought  into  scorn  and  derision  by  many  people." 
He  goes  on  to  tell  us  that  "the  ancient  practice  of 
singing  the  psalms  in  church  was  for  the  clerk  to 
repeat  each  line,  probably  because,  at  the  first  intro- 
duction of  psalms  into  our  service  great  numbers  of 
the  common  people  were  unable  to  read."  The  author 
of  The  Parish  Clerk's  Guide  states  that  "since  faction 
prevailed  in  the  Church,  and  troubles  in  the  State, 
Church  music  has  laboured  under  inevitable  prejudices, 
more  especially  by  its  being  decried  by  some  mis- 
guided and  peevish  sectaries  as  popery  and  anti-Christ, 
and  so  the  minds  of  the  common  people  are  alienated 
from  Church  music,  although  performed  by  men  of  the 
greatest  skill  and  judgment,  under  whom  was  wont  to 
be  trained  up  abundance  of  youth  in  the  respective 
cathedrals,  that  did  stock  the  whole  kingdom  at  one 
time  with  good  and  able  songsters."  The  Company 
of  Parish  Clerks  of  London  [to  the  history  and 
records  of  which  we  shall  have  occasion  frequently 
to  refer]  did  good  service  in  promoting  the  musical 
training  of  the  members  and  in  upholding  the  dignity 
of  their  important  office.  In  the  edition  of  The 
Parish  Clerk's  Guide  for  1731,  the  writer  laments  over 
the  diminished  status  of  his  order,  and  states  that 
"the  clerk  is  oftentimes  chosen  rather  for  his  poverty, 
to  prevent  a  charge  to  the  parish,  than  either  for  his 
virtue  or  skill ;  or  else  for  some  by-end  or  purpose, 
more  than  for  the  immediate  Honour  and  Service  of 
Almighty  God  and  His  Church." 

If  that  was  the  case  in  rich  and  populous  London 
parishes,  how  much  more  was  it  true  in  poor  village 
churches?  Hence  arose  the  race  of  country  clerks  who 
stumbled  over  and  miscalled  the  hard  words  as  they 


58  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

occurred  in  the  Psalms,  who  sang  in  a  strange  and 
weird  fashion,  and  brought  discredit  on  their  office. 
Indeed,  the  clergy  were  not  always  above  suspicion  in 
the  matter  of  reading,  and  even  now  they  have  their 
detractors,  who  assert  that  it  is  often  impossible  to  hear 
what  they  say,  that  they  read  in  a  strained  unnatural 
voice,  and  are  generally  unintelligible.  At  any  rate, 
modern  clergy  are  not  so  deficient  in  education  as  they 
were  in  the  early  years  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  when,  as 
Fuller  states  in  his  Triple  Reconciler,  they  were  com- 
manded "to  read  the  chapters  over  once  or  twice  by 
themselves  that  so  they  might  be  the  better  enabled  to 
read  them  distinctly  to  the  congregation."  If  the 
clergy  were  not  infallible  in  the  matter  of  the  pronun- 
ciation of  difficult  words,  it  is  not  surprising  that  the 
clerk  often  puzzled  or  amused  his  hearers,  and  mangled 
or  skipped  the  proper  names,  after  the  fashion  of  the 
mistress  of  a  dame-school,  who  was  wont  to  say  when 
a  small  pupil  paused  at  such  a  name  as  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, "That's  a  bad  word,  child  !  go  on  to  the  next 
verse." 

Of  the  mistakes  in  the  clerk's  reading  of  the  Psalms 
there  are  many  instances.  David  Diggs,  the  hero 
of  J.  Hewett's  Parish  Clerk,  was  remonstrated  with 
for  reading  the  proper  names  in  Psalm  Ixxxiii.  6, 
"  Odommities,  Osmallities,  and  Mobbities,"  and 
replied  :  "  Yes,  no  doubt,  but  that's  noigh  enow.  Sea- 
town  folk  understand  oi  very  well." 

He  is  also  reported  to  have  said,  "Jeball,  Amon, 
and  Almanac,  three  Philistines  with  them  that  are 
tired."  The  vicar  endeavoured  to  teach  him  the  correct 
mode  of  pronunciation  of  difficult  words,  and  for  some 
weeks  he  read  well,  and  then  returned  to  his  former 
method  of  making  a  shot  at  the  proper  names. 


DUTIES   OF   READING   AND   SINGING          59 

On  being  expostulated  with  he  coolly  replied  : 

"  One  on  us  must  read  better  than  t'other,  or  there 
wouldn't  be  no  difference  'twixt  parson  and  clerk  ;  so  I 
gives  in  to  you.  Besides,  this  sort  of  reading  as  you 
taught  me  would  not  do  here.  The  p'rishioners  told 
oi,  if  oi  didn't  gi'  in  and  read  in  th'  old  style  loike,  as 
they  wouldn't  come  to  hear  oi,  so  oi  dropped  it !  " 

An  old  clerk  at  Hartlepool,  who  had  been  a  sailor, 
used  to  render  Psalm  civ.  26,  as  "There  go  the  ships 
and  there  is  that  lieutenant  whom  Thou  hast  made  to 
take  his  pastime  therein." 

"  Leviathan  "  has  been  responsible  for  many  errors. 
A  shoemaker  clerk  used  to  call  it  "that  great  leather- 
thing."  From  various  sources  comes  to  me  the  story, 
to  which  I  have  already  referred,  of  the  transformation 
of  "  an  alien  to  my  mother's  children  "  into  "a  lion  to 
my  mother's  children." 

A  clerk  at  Bletchley  always  called  caterpillars  sater- 
pillars,  and  in  Psalm  Ixviii.  never  read  JAH,  but  spelt 
it  J-A-H.  He  used  to  summon  the  children  from  their 
places  to  stand  in  single  file  along  the  pews  during 
three  Sundays  in  Lent,  and  say,  "Children,  say  your 
catechayse." 

Catechising  during  the  service  seems  to  have  been 
not  uncommon.  The  clerk  at  Milverton  used  to  sum- 
mon the  children,  calling  out,  "  Children,  catechise, 
pray  draw  near." 

The  clerk  at  Sidbury  used  to  read,  "Better  than 
a  bullock  that  has  horns  enough " ;  his  name  was 
Timothy  Karslake,  commonly  called  "Tim,"  and 
when  he  made  a  mistake  in  the  responses  some  one  in 
the  church  would  call  out,  "  You  be  wrong,  Tim." 

Sometimes  a  little  emphasis  on  the  wrong  word  was 
used  to  express  the  feelings  engendered  by  private 


60  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

piques  and  quarrels.  There  were  in  one  parish  some 
differences  between  the  parson  and  the  clerk,  who 
showed  his  independence  and  proud  spirit  when  he 
read  the  verse  of  the  Psalm,  "If  I  be  hungry,  I  will 
not  tell  thee"  casting  a  rather  scornful  glance  at  the 
parson. 

Another  specimen  of  his  class  used  to  read  "  Ana- 
nias, Azarias,  and  Mizzle,"  and  one  who  was  reading 
a  lesson  in  church  (Isaiah  liv.  12),  "  And  I  will  make 
thy  windows  of  agates,  and  thy  gates  of  carbuncles," 
rendered  the  verse,  "  Thy  window  of  a  gate,  and  thy 
gates  of  crab  ancles." 

Another  clerk  who  was  "  not  much  of  a  scholard" 
used  to  allow  no  difficulty  to  check  his  fluency.  If  the 
right  word  did  not  fall  to  his  hand  he  made  shift  with 
another  of  somewhat  similar  sound,  the  result  fre- 
quently taxing  to  the  uttermost  the  self-control  of  the 
better  educated  among  his  hearers.  He  was  ill-mated 
to  a  shrewish  wife,  and  one  was  sensible  of  a  thrill 
of  sympathy  when,  without  a  thought  of  irreverence, 
and  in  all  simplicity,  he  rolled  out,  instead  of  "Woe 
is  me,  that  I  am  constrained  to  dwell  with  Mesech  ! " 
"Woe  is  me,  that  I  am  constrained  to  dwell  with 
Missis  !  " 

Old  age  at  length  puts  an  end  to  the  power  of  the 
most  stalwart  clerks.  That  must  have  been  a  very 
pathetic  scene  in  the  church  at  East  Barnet  which  few 
of  those  present  could  have  witnessed  without  emotion. 
The  clerk  was  a  man  of  advanced  age.  He  always 
conducted  the  singing,  which  must  have  been  some- 
what monotonous,  as  the  95th  and  the  icoth  Psalm 
(Old  Version)  were  invariably  sung.  On  one  occasion, 
after  several  vain  attempts  to  begin  the  accustomed 
melody,  the  poor  old  man  exclaimed,  "Well,  my 


DUTIES   OF   READING   AND   SINGING          61 

friends,  it's  no  use.  I'm  too  old.  I  can't  sing  any 
more." 

It  was  a  bitter  day  for  the  old  clerks  when  har- 
moniums and  organs  came  into  fashion,  and  the  old 
orchestras  conducted  by  them  were  abandoned.  De- 
throned monarchs  could  not  feel  more  distressed. 

The  period  of  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  status  of 
the  old  parish  clerks  was  that  of  the  Commonwealth, 
from  1640  to  1660.  During  the  spacious  days  of 
Elizabeth  and  the  early  Stuarts  they  were  considered 
most  important  officials.  In  pre-Reformation  times 
the  incumbents  used  to  receive  assistance  from  the 
chantry  priests  who  were  required  to  help  the  parson 
when  not  engaged  in  their  particular  duties.  After  the 
suppression  of  the  chantries  they  continued  their  good 
offices  and  acted  as  assistant  curates.  But  the  race 
soon  died  out.  Then  lecturers  and  special  preachers 
were  frequently  appointed  by  corporations  or  rich 
private  individuals.  But  these  lecturers  and  preachers 
were  a  somewhat  independent  race  who  were  not  very 
loyal  to  the  parsons  and  impatient  of  episcopal  con- 
trol, and  proved  themselves  rather  a  hindrance  than 
a  help.  In  North  Devon1  and  doubtless  in  many 
other  places  the  experiment  was  tried  of  making  use 
of  the  parish  clerks  and  raising  them  to  the  diaconate. 
Such  a  clerk  so  raised  to  major  orders  was  Robert 
Langdon  (1584-1625),  of  Barnstaple,  to  whose  history 
I  shall  have  occasion  to  refer  again.  His  successor, 
Anthony  Baker,  was  also  a  clerk-deacon.  The  parish 
clerk  then  attained  the  zenith  of  his  power,  dignity, 
and  importance. 

After  the  disastrous  period  of  the   Commonwealth 

1  The  Parish  Clerks  of  Barnstaple,  1500-1900,  by  Rev.  J.  F.  Chanter 
(Transactions  of  the  Devonshire  Association). 


62  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

rule  he  emerges  shorn  of  his  learning,  his  rank,  and 
status.  His  name  remained  ;  his  office  was  recognised 
by  legal  enactments  and  ecclesiastical  usage ;  but  in 
most  parishes  he  was  chosen  on  account  of  his  poverty 
rather  than  for  his  fitness  for  the  post.  So  long  as  the 
church  rates  remained  he  received  his  salary,  but  when 
these  were  abolished  it  was  found  difficult  in  many 
parishes  to  provide  the  funds.  Hence  as  the  old  race 
died  out,  the  office  was  allowed  to  lapse,  and  the  old 
clerk's  place  knows  him  no  more.  Possibly  it  may  be 
the  delectable  task  of  some  future  historian  to  record 
the  complete  revival  of  the  office,  which  would  prove 
under  proper  conditions  an  immense  advantage  to 
the  Church  and  a  valuable  assistance  to  the  parochial 
clergy. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE   CLERK  IN   LITERATURE 

r  I  ""HE  parish  clerk  is  so  notable  a  character  in  our 
JL  ecclesiastical  and  social  life,  that  he  has  not 
escaped  the  attention  of  many  of  our  great  writers  and 
poets.  Some  of  them  have  with  gentle  satire  touched 
upon  his  idiosyncrasies  and  peculiarities  ;  others  have 
recorded  his  many  virtues,  his  zeal  and  faithfulness. 
Shakespeare  alludes  to  him  in  his  play  of  Richard  II \ 
in  the  fourth  act,  when  he  makes  the  monarch  face  his 
rebellious  nobles,  reproaching  them  for  their  faithless- 
ness, and  saying  : 

"  God  save  the  King  !  will  no  man  say  Amen  ? 
Am  I  both  priest  and  clerk?  Well  then,  Amen. 
God  save  the  King  !  although  I  be  not  he ; 
And  yet,  Amen,  if  Heaven  do  think  him  me." 

An  old  ballad,  King  Cophetua  and  the  Beggar-Maid, 
contains  an  interesting  allusion  to  the  parish  clerk,  and 
shows  the  truth  of  that  which  has  already  been  pointed 
out,  viz.  that  the  office  of  clerk  was  often  considered  to 
be  a  step  to  higher  preferment  in  the  Church.  The 
lines  of  the  old  ballad  run  as  follows  : 

"  The  proverb  old  is  come  to  passe, 
The  priest  when  he  begins  his  masse 
Forgets  that  ever  clarke  he  was  ; 

He  knoweth  not  his  estate." 

Christopher    Harvey,    the    friend    and    imitator    of 
George  Herbert,  has  some  homely  lines  on  the  duties 

63 


64  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

of  clerk  and  sexton  in  his  poem  The  Synagogue.    Of 
the  clerk  he  wrote  : 

"  The  Churches  Bible-clerk  attends 

Her  utensils,  and  ends 

Her  prayers  with  Amen, 
Tunes  Psalms,  and  to  her  Sacraments 

Brings  in  the  Elements, 

And  takes  them  out  again  ; 
Is  humble  minded  and  industrious  handed, 
Doth  nothing  of  himself,  but  as  commanded." 

Of  the  sexton  he  wrote  : 

"  The  Churches  key-keeper  opens  the  door, 

And  shuts  it,  sweeps  the  floor, 
Rings  bells,  digs  graves,  and  fills  them  up  again  ; 
All  emblems  unto  men, 
Openly  owning  Christianity 
To  mark  and  learn  many  good  lessons  by." 

In  that  delightful  sketch  of  old-time  manners  and 
quaint  humour,  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  the  editor  of  The 
Spectator  gave  a  life-like  representation  of  the  old- 
fashioned  service.  Nor  is  the  clerk  forgotten.  They 
tell  us  that  "  Sir  Roger  has  likewise  added  five  pounds 
a  year  to  the  clerk's  place  ;  and  that  he  may  encourage 
the  young  fellows  to  make  themselves  perfect  in  the 
Church  services,  has  promised,  upon  the  death  of  the 
present  incumbent,  who  is  very  old,  to  bestow  it  ac- 
cording to  merit."  The  details  of  the  exquisite  picture 
of  a  rural  Sunday  were  probably  taken  from  the  church 
of  Milston  on  the  Wiltshire  downs  where  Addison's 
father  was  incumbent,  and  where  the  author  was  born 
in  1672.  Doubtless  the  recollections  of  his  early  home 
enabled  Joseph  Addison  to  draw  such  an  accurate  pic- 
ture of  the  ecclesiastical  customs  of  his  youth.  The 
deference  shown  by  the  members  of  the  congregation 
who  did  not  presume  to  stir  till  Sir  Roger  had  left 
the  building  was  practised  in  much  more  recent 


THE   CLERK    IN   LITERATURE  65 

times,  and  instances  will  be  given  of  the  observance 
of  this  custom  within  living  memory. 

Two  other  references  to  parish  clerks  I  find  in  The 
Spectator  which  are  worthy  of  quotation  : 

' '  Spectator,  No.  372. 

"  In  three  or  four  taverns  I  have,  at  different  times, 
taken  notice  of  a  precise  set  of  people  with  grave  coun- 
tenances, short  wigs,  black  cloaths,  or  dark  camblet 
trimmed  black,  with  mourning  gloves  and  hat-bands, 
who  went  on  certain  days  at  each  tavern  successively, 
and  keep  a  sort  of  moving  club.  Having  often  met 
with  their  faces,  and  observed  a  certain  shrinking  way 
in  their  dropping  in  one  after  another,  I  had  the  unique 
curiosity  to  inquire  into  their  characters,  being  the 
rather  moved  to  it  by  their  agreeing  in  the  singularity 
of  their  dress  ;  and  I  find  upon  due  examination  they 
are  a  knot  of  parish  clerks,  who  have  taken  a  fancy 
to  one  another,  and  perhaps  settle  the  bills  of  mortality 
over  their  half  pints.  I  have  so  great  a  value  and 
veneration  for  any  who  have  but  even  an  assenting 
Amen  in  the  service  of  religion,  that  I  am  afraid  but 
these  persons  should  incur  some  scandal  by  this  prac- 
tice ;  and  would  therefore  have  them,  without  raillery, 
advise  to  send  the  florence  and  pullets  home  to  their 
own  homes,  and  not  to  pretend  to  live  as  well  as  the 
overseers  of  the  poor.  «  HUMPHRY  TRANSFER. 

"Spectator,  No.  338. 

"A  great  many  of  our  church-musicians  being  related 
to  the  theatre,  have  in  imitation  of  their  epilogues 
introduced  in  their  favourite  voluntaries  a  sort  of 
music  quite  foreign  to  the  design  of  church  services, 
to  the  great  prejudice  of  well-disposed  people.  These 


66  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

fingering  gentlemen  should  be  informed  that  they 
ought  to  suit  their  airs  to  the  place  and  business  ;  and 
that  the  musician  is  obliged  to  keep  to  the  text  as  much 
as  the  preacher.  For  want  of  this,  I  have  found  by 
experience  a  great  deal  of  mischief;  for  when  the 
preacher  has  often,  with  great  piety  and  art  enough, 
handled  his  subject,  and  the  judicious  clerk  has  with 
utmost  diligence  called  out  two  staves  proper  to  the 
discourse,  and  I  have  found  in  myself  and  in  the  rest 
of  the  pew  good  thoughts  and  dispositions,  they  have 
been  all  in  a  moment  dissipated  by  a  merry  jig  from 
the  organ  loft." 

Dr.  Johnson's  definition  of  a  parish  clerk  in  his 
Dictionary  does  not  convey  the  whole  truth  about 
him  and  his  historic  office.  He  is  defined  as  "the 
layman  who  reads  the  responses  to  the  congregation 
in  church,  to  direct  the  rest."  The  great  lexicographer 
had,  however,  a  high  estimation  of  this  official.  Bos- 
well  tells  us  that  on  one  occasion  "  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Palmer,  Fellow  of  Queens'  College,  Cambridge,  dined 
with  us.  He  expressed  a  wish  that  a  better  provision 
were  made  for  parish  clerks.  Johnson  :  '  Yes,  sir,  a 
parish  clerk  should  be  a  man  who  is  able  to  make  a 
will  or  write  a  letter  for  anybody  in  the  parish.' "  I  am 
afraid  that  a  vast  number  of  our  good  clerks  would 
have  been  sore  puzzled  to  perform  the  first  task,  and 
the  caligraphy  of  the  letter  would  in  many  cases  have 
been  curious. 

That  careful  delineator  of  rural  manners  as  they 
existed  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  George 
Crabbe,  devotes  a  whole  poem  to  the  parish  clerk  in 
his  nineteenth  letter  of  The  Borough.  He  tells  of  the 
fortunes  of  Jachin,  the  clerk,  a  grave  and  austere  man, 
fully  orthodox,  a  Pharisee  of  the  Pharisees,  and  de- 


THE   CLERK    IN   LITERATURE  67 

teeter  and  opposer  of  the  wiles  of  Satan.  Here  is  his 
picture : 

"  With  our  late  vicar,  and  his  age  the  same, 
His  clerk,  bright  Jachin,  to  his  office  came  ; 
The  like  slow  speech  was  his,  the  like  tall  slender  frame  : 
But  Jachin  was  the  gravest  man  on  ground, 
And  heard  his  master's  jokes  with  look  profound  ; 
For  worldly  wealth  this  man  of  letters  sigh'd, 
And  had  a  sprinkling  of  the  spirit's  pride  : 
But  he  was  sober,  chaste,  devout,  and  just, 
One  whom  his  neighbours  could  believe  and  trust : 
Of  none  suspected,  neither  man  nor  maid 
By  him  were  wronged,  or  were  of  him  afraid. 
There  was  indeed  a  frown,  a  trick  of  state 
In  Jachin  :  formal  was  his  air  and  gait : 
But  if  he  seemed  more  solemn  and  less  kind 
Than  some  light  man  to  light  affairs  confined, 
Still  'twas  allow'd  that  he  should  so  behave 
As  in  high  seat,  and  be  severely  grave." 

The  arch-tempter  tries  in  vain  to  seduce  him  from  the 
right  path.  "The  house  where  swings  the  tempting 
sign,"  the  smiles  of  damsels,  have  no  power  over  him. 
He  "  shuns  a  flowing  bowl  and  rosy  lip,"  but  he  is  not 
invulnerable  after  all.  Want  and  avarice  take  posses- 
sion of  his  soul.  He  begins  to  take  by  stealth  the 
money  collected  in  church,  putting  bran  in  his  pockets 
so  that  the  coin  shall  not  jingle.  He  offends  with 
terror,  repeats  his  offence,  grows  familiar  with  crime, 
and  is  at  last  detected  by  a  "  stern  stout  churl,  an 
angry  overseer."  Disgrace,  ruin,  death  soon  follow; 
shunned  and  despised  by  all,  he  "turns  to  the  wall  and 
silently  expired."  A  woeful  story  truly,  the  results  of 
spiritual  pride  and  greed  of  gain  !  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  few  clerks  resembled  poor  lost  Jachin. 

A  companion  picture  to  the  disgraced  clerk  is  that 
of  "the  noble  peasant  Isaac  Ashford,"1  who  won  from 

1  The  Parish  Register,  Part  III. 


68  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Crabbe's    pen    a    gracious    panegyric.      He    says    of 

111  in  :      <<  N0ble  he  was,  contemning:  all  things  mean, 
His  truth  unquestioned,  and  his  soul  serene. 

If  pride  were  his,  'twas  not  their  vulgar  pride, 
Who,  in  their  base  contempt,  the  great  deride  : 
Nor  pride  in  learning — though  by  Clerk  agreed, 
If  fate  should  call  him,  Ashford  might  succeed." 

He  paints  yet  another  portrait,  that  of  old  Dibble,1 
clerk  and  sexton  : 

"  His  eightieth  year  he  reach'd  still  undecayed, 
And  rectors  five  to  one  close  vault  conveyed. 

His  masters  lost,  he'd  oft  in  turn  deplore, 
And  kindly  add, — '  Heaven  grant  I  lose  no  more  ! ' 
Yet  while  he  spake,  a  sly  and  pleasant  glance 
Appear'd  at  variance  with  his  complaisance  : 
For  as  he  told  their  fate  and  varying  worth, 
He  archly  looked — '  I  yet  may  bear  thee  forth.' " 

George  Herbert,  the  saintly  Christian  poet,  who 
sang  on  earth  such  hymns  and  anthems  as  the  angels 
sing  in  heaven,  was  no  friend  of  the  old-fashioned 
duet  between  the  minister  and  clerk  in  the  conduct 
of  divine  service.  He  would  have  no  "  talking,  or 
sleeping,  or  gazing,  or  leaning,  or  half-kneeling,  or 
any  undutiful  behaviour  in  them."  Moreover,  "  every- 
one, man  and  child,  should  answer  aloud  both  Amen 
and  all  other  answers  which  are  on  the  clerk's  and 
people's  part  to  answer,  which  answers  also  are  to 
be  done  not  in  a  huddling  or  slubbering  fashion, 
gaping,  or  scratching  the  head,  or  spitting  even  in  the 
midst  of  their  answer,  but  gently  and  pausably,  think- 
ing what  they  say,  so  that  while  they  answer  '  As  it 
was  in  the  beginning,  etc.,'  they  meditate  as  they  speak, 
that  God  hath  ever  had  his  people  that  have  glorified 

1  The  Parish  Register,  Part  III, 


THE   CLERK    IN   LITERATURE  69 

Him  as  well  as  now,  and  that  He  shall  have  so  for 
ever.  And  the  like  in  other  answers." 

Cowper's  kindliness  of  heart  is  abundantly  evinced 
by  his  treatment  of  a  parish  clerk,  one  John  Cox,  the 
official  of  the  parish  of  All  Saints,  Northampton.  The 
poet  was  living  in  the  little  Buckinghamshire  village 
of  Weston  Underwood,  having  left  Olney  when 
mouldering  walls  and  a  tottering  house  warned  him 
to  depart.  He  was  recovering  from  his  dread  malady, 
and  beginning  to  feel  the  pleasures  and  inconveniences 
of  authorship  and  fame.  The  most  amusing  proof  of 
his  celebrity  and  his  good  nature  is  thus  related  to 
Lady  Hesketh  : 

"On  Monday  morning  last,  Sam  brought  me  word 
that  there  was  a  man  in  the  kitchen  who  desired  to 
speak  with  me.  I  ordered  him  in.  A  plain,  decent, 
elderly  figure  made  its  appearance,  and  being  desired 
to  sit  spoke  as  follows  :  '  Sir,  I  am  clerk  of  the  parish 
of  All  Saints  in  Northampton,  brother  of  Mr.  Cox 
the  upholsterer.  It  is  customary  for  the  person  in  my 
office  to  annex  to  a  bill  of  mortality,  which  he  publishes 
at  Christmas,  a  copy  of  verses.  You  will  do  me  a 
great  favour,  sir,  if  you  will  furnish  me  with  one.' 
To  this  I  replied  :  '  Mr.  Cox,  you  have  several  men  of 
genius  in  your  town,  why  have  you  not  applied  to 
some  of  them?  There  is  a  namesake  of  yours  in 
particular,  Cox,  the  Statuary,  who,  everybody  knows, 
is  a  first-rate  maker  of  verses.  He  surely  is  the  man 
of  all  the  world  for  your  purpose.'  'Alas,  sir,  I  have 
heretofore  borrowed  help  from  him,  but  he  is  a  gentle- 
man of  so  much  reading  that  the  people  of  our  town 
cannot  understand  him.' 

"  I  confess  to  you,  my  dear,  I  felt  all  the  force  of  the 
compliment  implied  in  this  speech,  and  was  almost 


70  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

ready  to  answer,  Perhaps,  my  good  friend,  they  may 
find  me  unintelligible  too  for  the  same  reason.  But  on 
asking  him  whether  he  had  walked  over  to  Weston  on 
purpose  to  implore  the  assistance  of  my  muse,  and  on 
his  replying  in  the  affirmative,  I  felt  my  mortified 
vanity  a  little  consoled,  and  pitying  the  poor  man's 
distress,  which  appeared  to  be  considerable,  promised 
to  supply  him.  The  waggon  has  accordingly  gone  this 
day  to  Northampton  loaded  in  part  with  my  effusions 
in  the  mortuary  style.  A  fig  for  poets  who  write  epi- 
taphs upon  individuals  !  I  have  written  one  that  serves 
two  hundred  persons." 

Seven  successive  years  did  Cowper,  in  his  excellent 
good  nature,  supply  John  Cox,  the  clerk  of  All  Saints 
in  Northampton,  with  his  mortuary  verses1,  and  when 
Cox  died,  he  bestowed  a  like  kindness  on  his  suc- 
cessor, Samuel  Wright. 

These  stanzas  are  published  in  the  complete  editions 
of  Cowper's  poems,  and  need  not  be  quoted  here. 
They  begin  with  a  quotation  from  some  Latin  author — 
Horace,  or  Virgil,  or  Cicero — these  quotations  being 
obligingly  translated  for  the  benefit  of  the  worthy 
townsfolk.  The  first  of  these  stanzas  begins  with  the 
well-known  lines  : 

"  While  thirteen  moons  saw  smoothly  run 

The  Nen's  barge-laden  wave, 
All  these,  life's  rambling-  journey  done, 
Have  found  their  home,  the  grave." 

Another  verse  which  has  attained  fame  runs  thus  : 

"  Like  crowded  forest  trees  we  stand, 

And  some  are  mark'd  to  fall ; 
The  axe  will  smite  at  God's  command, 
And  soon  will  smite  us  all." 

1  Southey's  Works  of  Camper,  ii.  p.  283. 


THE   CLERK    IN    LITERATURE  71 

And  thus  does  Cowper,  in  his  temporary  role,  point 
the  moral : 

"  And  O  !  that  humble  as  my  lot, 
And  scorned  as  is  my  strain, 
These  truths,  though  known,  too  much  forgot, 

I  may  not  teach  in  vain. 
"  So  prays  your  clerk  with  all  his  heart, 

And,  ere  he  quits  his  pen, 
Begs  you  for  once  to  take  his  part, 
And  answer  all — Amen." 

Again,   in  another  copy  of  verses   he  alludes  to  his 
honourable  clerkship,  and  sings  : 

"  So  your  verse-man  I,  and  clerk, 

Yearly  in  my  song  proclaim 
Death  at  hand — yourselves  his  mark — 
And  the  foe's  unerring  aim. 

"  Duly  at  my  time  I  come, 
Publishing  to  all  aloud 
Soon  the  grave  must  be  our  home, 
And  your  only  suit  a  shroud." 

On  one  occasion  the  clerk  delayed  to  send  a  printed 
copy  of  the  verses  ;  so  we  find  the  poet  writing  to  his 
friend,  William  Bagot : 

"  You  would  long  since  have  received  an  answer  to 
your  last,  had  not  the  wicked  clerk  of  Northampton 
delayed  to  send  me  the  printed  copy  of  my  annual 
dirge,  which  I  waited  to  enclose.  Here  it  is  at  last, 
and  much  good  may  it  do  the  readers  ! " 

Let  us  hope  that  at  least  the  clerk  was  grateful. 

Yet  again  does  the  poet  allude  to  the  occupant  of 
the  lowest  tier  of  the  great  "three-decker,"  when  he 
in  the  opening  lines  of  The  Sofa  depicts  the  various 
seekers  after  sleep.  After  telling  of  the  snoring  nurse, 
the  sleeping  traveller  in  the  coach,  he  continues  : 

"Sweet  sleep  enjoys  the  curate  in  his  desk, 
The  tedious  rector  drawling  o'er  his  head  ; 
And  sweet  the  clerk  below — " 


72  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

a  pretty  picture  truly  of  a  stirring  and  impressive 
service ! 

Cowper,  if  he  were  alive  now,  would  have  been  no 
admirer  of  Who's  Who,  and  poured  scorn  upon  any 

"  Fond  attempt  to  give  a  deathless  lot 
To  names  ignoble,  born  to  be  forgot." 

Beholding  some  "  names  of  little  note"  in  the  Bio- 
graphia  Britannica,  he  proceeded  to  satirise  the  pub- 
lication, to  laugh  at  the  imaginary  procession  of 
worthies — the  squire,  his  lady,  the  vicar,  and  other 
local  celebrities,  and  chants  in  his  anger : 

"  There  goes  the  parson,  oh  !  illustrious  spark  ! 
And  there,  scarce  less  illustrious,  goes  the  clerk." 

The  poet  Gay  is  not  unmindful  of  the 

"  Parish  clerk  who  calls  the  hymns  so  clear"  ; 

and  Tennyson,  in  his  sonnet  to  J.  M.  K.,  wrote : 

"  Our  dusty  velvets  have  much  need  of  thee  : 
Thou  art  no  sabbath-drawler  of  old  saws, 
Distill'd  from  some  worm-canker'd  homily  ; 
But  spurr'd  at  heart  with  fiercest  energy 
To  embattail  and  to  wall  about  thy  cause 
With  iron-worded  proof,  hating  to  hark 
The  humming  of  the  drowsy  pulpit-drone 
Half  God's  good  Sabbath,  while  the  worn-out  clerk 
Brow-beats  his  desk  below." 

In  the  gallery  of  Dickens's  characters  stands  out  the 
immortal  Solomon  Daisy  of  Barnaby  Rudge,  with  his 
"cricket-like  chirrup"  as  he  took  his  part  in  the  social 
gossip  round  the  Maypole  fire.  Readers  of  Dickens 
will  remember  the  timid  Solomon's  visit  to  the  church 
at  midnight  when  he  went  to  toll  the  passing  bell,  and 
his  account  of  the  strange  things  that  befell  him  there, 
and  of  the  ringing  of  the  mysterious  bell  that  told  the 
murder  of  Reuben  Haredale. 


THE   CLERK    IN   LITERATURE  73 

In  the  British  Museum  I  discovered  a  fragmentary 
collection  of  ballads  and  songs,  made  by  Mr.  Ballard, 
and  amongst  these  is  a  song  relating  to  a  very  un- 
worthy follower  of  St.  Nicholas,  whose  memory  is  thus 
unhappily  preserved  : 

THE    PARISH    CLERK 

A   NEW  COMIC   SONG 
Tune — THE  VICAR  AND  MOSES 

Here  rests  from  his  labours,  by  consent  of  his  neighbours, 

A  peevish,  ill-natur'd  old  clerk  ; 
Who  never  design'd  any  good  to  mankind, 

For  of  goodness  he  ne'er  had  a  spark. 

Tol  lol  de  rol  lol  de  rol  lol. 

But  greedy  as  Death,  until  his  last  breath, 

His  method  he  ne'er  failed  to  use  ; 
When  interr'd  a  corpse  lay,  Amen  he'd  scarce  say, 

Before  he  cry'd  Who  pays  the  dues  ? 

Not  a  tear  now  he's  dead,  by  friend  or  foe  shed  ; 

The  first  they  were  few,  if  he'd  any  ; 
Of  the  last  he  had  more,  than  tongue  can  count  o'er, 

Who'd  have  hang'd  the  old  churl  for  a  penny. 

In  Levi's  black  train,  the  clerk  did  remain 
Twenty  years,  squalling  o'er  a  dull  stave  ; 

Yet  his  mind  was  so  evil,  he'd  swear  like  the  devil, 
Nor  repented  on  this  side  the  grave. 

Fowler,  Printer,  Salisbury. 

That  extraordinary  man  Mr.  William  Hutton,  who 
died  in  1813,  and  whose  life  has  been  written  and 
his  works  edited  by  Mr.  Llewellyn  Jewitt,  F.S.A., 
amongst  his  other  poems  wrote  a  set  of  verses  on  The 
Way  to  Find  Sunday  -without  an  Almanack.  It  tells  the 
story  of  a  Welsh  clergyman  who  kept  poultry,  and 
how  he  told  the  days  of  the  week  and  marked  the 
Sundays  by  the  regularity  with  which  one  of  his  hens 
laid  her  eggs.  The  seventh  egg  always  became  his 
Sunday  letter,  and  thus  he  always  remembered  to  sally 


74  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

forth  "with  gown  and  cassock,  book  and  band,"  and 
perform  his  accustomed  duty.  Unfortunately  the  clerk 
was  treacherous,  and  one  week  stole  an  egg,  with  dire 
consequences  to  the  congregation,  which  had  to  wait 
until  the  clergyman,  who  was  engaged  in  the  unclerical 
task  of  "soleing  shoes,"  could  be  fetched.  The  poem 
is  a  poor  trifle,  but  it  is  perhaps  worth  mentioning  on 
account  of  the  personality  of  the  writer. 

There  is  a  charming  sketch  of  an  old  clerk  in  the 
Essays  and  Tales  of  the  late  Lady  Verney.  The  story 
tells  of  the  old  clerk's  affection  for  his  great-grandchild, 
Benny.  He  is  a  delightfully  drawn  specimen  of  his 
race.  We  see  him  "creeping  slowly  about  the  shadows 
of  the  aisle,  in  his  long  blue  Sunday  coat  with  huge 
brass  buttons,  the  tails  of  which  reached  almost  to  his 
heels,  shorts  and  brown  leggings,  and  a  low-crowned 
hat  in  his  hand.  He  was  nearly  eighty,  but  wiry  still, 
rather  blind  and  somewhat  deaf;  but  the  post  of  clerk 
is  one  considered  to  be  quite  independent  and  irremov- 
able, quam  diu  se  bene gesserit,  during  good  behaviour — 
on  a  level  with  Her  Majesty's  judges  for  that  matter. 
Having  been  raised  to  this  great  eminence  some  sixty 
years  before,  when  he  was  the  only  man  in  the  parish 
who  could  read,  he  would  have  stood  out  for  his  rights 
to  remain  there  as  long  as  he  pleased  against  all  the 
powers  and  principalities  in  the  kingdom — if,  indeed, 
he  could  have  conceived  the  possibility  of  any  one,  in 
or  out  of  the  parish,  being  sufficiently  irreligious  and 
revolutionary  to  dispute  his  sovereignty.  He  was  part 
of  the  church,  and  the  church  was  part  of  him — his 
rights  and  hers  were  indissolubly  connected  in  his 
mind. 

"The  Psalms  that  day  offered  a  fine  field  for  his 


THE   CLERK    IN   LITERATURE  75 

Anglo-Saxon  plurals  and  south-country  terminations  ; 
the  'housen,'  'priestesses,'  'beasteses  of  the  field,'  came 
rolling  freely  forth  from  his  mouth,  upon  which  no  re- 
monstrances by  the  curate  had  had  the  smallest  effect. 
Was  he,  Michael  Major,  who  had  fulfilled  the  im- 
portant office  '  afore  that  young  jackanapes  was  born, 
to  be  teached  how  'twere  to  be  done  ? '  he  had  observed 
more  than  once  in  rather  a  high  tone,  though  in 
general  he  patronised  the  successive  occupants  of  the 
pulpit  with  much  kindness.  '  And  this  'un,  as  cannot 
spike  English  nayther,'  he  added  superciliously  con- 
cerning the  north-country  accent  of  his  pastor  and 
master." 

On  weekdays  he  wore  a  smock-frock,  which  he 
called  his  surplice,  with  wonderful  fancy  stitches  on 
the  breast  and  back  and  sleeves.  At  length  he  had  to 
resign  his  post  and  take  to  his  bed,  and  was  not  afraid 
to  die  when  his  time  came.  It  is  a  very  tender  and 
touching  little  story,  a  very  faithful  picture  of  an  old 
clerk.1 

Passing  from  grave  to  gay,  we  find  Tom  Hood 
sketching  the  clerk  attending  on  his  vicar,  who  is 
about  to  perform  a  wedding  service  and  make  two 
people  for  ever  happy.  He  christens  the  two  officials 
"the  joiners,  no  rough  mechanics,  but  a  portly  full- 
blown vicar  with  his  clerk,  both  rubicund,  a  peony 
paged  by  a  pink.  It  made  me  smile  to  observe  the 
droll  clerical  turn  of  the  clerk's  beaver,  scrubbed  into 
that  fashion  by  his  coat  at  the  nape." 

Few  people  know  Alexander  Pope's  Memoir  of 
P.P.,  Clerk  of  this  Parish,  which  was  intended  to 
ridicule  Burnet's  History  of  His  Own  Time,  a  work 
characterised  by  a  strong  tincture  of  self-importance 

1  Essays  and  Tales,  by  Frances  Parthenope  Lady  Verney,  p.  67. 


76  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

and  egotism.     These  are  abundantly  exposed  in   the 
Memoir,  which  begins  thus  : 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Lord,  Amen.  I,  P.P.,  by  the 
Grace  of  God,  Clerk  of  this  Parish,  writeth  this 
history. 

"  Ever  since  I  arrived  at  the  age  of  discretion  I  had 
a  call  to  take  upon  me  the  Function  of  a  Parish  Clerk, 
and  to  this  end  it  seemed  unto  me  meet  and  profitable 
to  associate  myself  with  the  parish  clerks  of  this  land, 
such  I  mean  as  were  right  worthy  in  their  calling, 
men  of  a  clear  and  sweet  voice,  and  of  becoming 
gravity." 

He  tells  how  on  the  day  of  his  birth  Squire  Bret 
gave  a  bell  to  the  ring  of  the  parish.  Hence  that 
one  and  the  same  day  did  give  to  their  own  church 
two  rare  gifts,  its  great  bell  and  its  clerk. 

Leaving  the  account  of  P.  P.'s  youthful  amours  and 
bouts  at  quarter-staff,  we  next  find  that : 

"  No  sooner  was  I  elected  into  my  office,  but  I  layed 
aside  the  gallantries  of  my  youth  and  became  a  new 
man.  I  considered  myself  as  in  somewise  of  ecclesiastical 
dignity,  since  by  wearing  of  a  band,  which  is  no  small 
part  of  the  ornaments  of  our  clergy,  might  not  un- 
worthily be  deemed,  as  it  were,  a  shred  of  the  linen 
vestments  of  Aaron. 

"Thou  mayest  conceive,  O  reader,  with  what  con- 
cern I  perceived  the  eyes  of  the  congregation  fixed 
upon  me,  when  I  first  took  my  place  at  the  feet  of  the 
Priest.  When  I  raised  the  Psalm,  how  did  my  voice 
quiver  with  fear  !  And  when  I  arrayed  the  shoulders 
of  the  minister  with  the  surplice,  how  did  my  joints 
tremble  under  me  !  I  said  within  myself,  '  Remember, 
Paul,  thou  standest  before  men  of  high  worship,  the 


THE   CLERK    IN   LITERATURE  77 

wise  Mr.  Justice  Freeman,  the  grave  Mr.  Justice 
Tonson,  the  good  Lady  Jones.'  Notwithstanding  it 
was  my  good  hap  to  acquit  myself  to  the  good 
liking  of  the  whole  congregation,  but  the  Lord  forbid 
I  should  glory  therein." 

He  then  proceeded  to  remove  "the  manifold  corrup- 
tions and  abuses." 

1.  "I  was  especially  severe  in  whipping  forth  dogs 
from  the  Temple,  all  except  the  lap-dog  of  the  good 
widow   Howard,  a  sober  dog  which  yelped  not,   nor 
was  there  offence  in  his  mouth. 

2.  "I  did  even  proceed  to  moroseness,  though  sore 
against  my  heart,   unto  poor  babes,   in  tearing  from 
them  the  half-eaten  apple,  which  they  privily  munched 
at  church.     But  verily  it  pitied  me,  for  I  remembered 
the  days  of  my  youth. 

3.  "With  the  sweat  of  my  own  hands  I  did  make 
plain  and  smooth  the  dog's  ears  throughout  our  Great 
Bible. 

4.  "I  swept  the  pews,  not  before  swept  in  the  third 
year.     I  darned  the  surplice  and  laid  it  in  lavender." 

The  good  clerk  also  made  shoes,  shaved  and  clipped 
hair,  and  practised  chirurgery  also  in  the  worming  of 
dogs. 

"  Now  was  the  long  expected  time  arrived  when  the 
Psalms  of  King  David  should  be  hymned  unto  the 
same  tunes  to  which  he  played  them  upon  his  harp,  so 
I  was  informed  by  my  singing-master,  a  man  right 
cunning  in  Psalmody.  Now  was  our  over-abundant 
quaver  and  trilling  done  away,  and  in  lieu  thereof  was 
instituted  the  sol-fa  in  such  guise  as  is  sung  in  his 
Majesty's  Chapel.  We  had  London  singing-masters 
sent  into  every  parish  like  unto  excisemen." 


78  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

P.  P.  was  accused  by  his  enemies  of  humming 
through  his  nostrils  as  a  sackbut,  yet  he  would  not 
forgo  the  harmony,  it  having  been  agreed  by  the 
worthy  clerks  of  London  still  to  preserve  the  same. 
He  tutored  the  young  men  and  maidens  to  tune  their 
voices  as  it  were  a  psaltery,  and  the  church  on  Sunday 
was  filled  with  new  Hallelujahs. 

But  the  fame  of  the  great  is  fleeting.  Poor  Paul 
Philips  passed  away,  and  was  forgotten.  When  his 
biographer  went  to  see  him,  his  place  knew  him  no 
more.  No  one  could  tell  of  his  virtues,  his  career,  his 
excellences.  Nothing  remained  but  his  epitaph  : 

"  O  reader,  if  that  thou  canst  read, 

Look  down  upon  this  stone  ; 
Do  all  we  can,  Death  is  a  man 
That  never  spareth  none." 


CHAPTER  VI 

CLERKS   TOO   CLERICAL.     SMUGGLING   DAYS 
AND   SMUGGLING  WAYS 

IT  is  perhaps  not  altogether  surprising  that  in  times 
when  ordained  clergymen  were  scarce,  and  when 
much  confusion  reigned,  the  clerk  should  occasionally 
have  taken  upon  himself  to  discharge  duties  which 
scarcely  pertained  to  his  office.  Great  diversity  of 
opinion  is  evident  as  regards  the  right  of  the  clerk  to 
perform  certain  ecclesiastical  services,  such  as  his  read- 
ing of  the  Burial  Service,  the  Churching  of  Women,  and 
the  reading  of  the  daily  services  in  the  absence  of  the 
incumbent.  In  the  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  judging 
from  the  numerous  inquiries  issued  by  the  bishops  at 
their  visitations,  one  would  imagine  that  the  parish  clerk 
performed  many  services  which  pertained  to  the  duties 
of  the  parish  priest.  It  is  not  likely  that  such  inquiries 
should  have  been  made  if  some  reports  of  clerks  and 
readers  exceeding  their  prescribed  functions  had  not 
reached  episcopal  ears.  They  ask  if  readers  presume 
to  baptize  or  marry  or  celebrate  Holy  Communion. 
And  the  answers  received  in  several  cases  support  the 
surmise  of  the  bishops.  Thus  we  read  that  at  Westbere, 
"  When  the  parson  is  absent  the  parish  clerk  reads  the 
service."  At  Waltham  the  parish  clerk  served  the 
parish  for  the  most  as  the  vicar  seldom  came  there.  At 

79 


8o  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Tenterden  the  service  was  read  by  a  layman,  one  John 
Hopton,  and  at  Fairfield  a  reader  served  the  church. 
This  was  the  condition  of  those  parishes  in  1569,  and 
doubtless  many  others  were  similarly  situated. 

The  Injunctions  of  Archbishop  Grindal,  issued  in 
1571,  are  severe  and  outspoken  with  regard  to  lay 
ministration.  He  wrote  as  follows  : 

"We  do  enjoin  and  straitly  command,  that  from 
henceforth  no  parish  clerk,  nor  any  other  person  not 
being  ordered,  at  the  least,  for  a  deacon,  shall  presume 
to  solemnize  Matrimony,  or  to  minister  the  Sacrament 
of  Baptism,  or  to  deliver  the  communicants  the  Lord's 
cup  at  the  celebration  of  the  Holy  Communion.  And 
that  no  person,  not  being  a  minister,  deacon,  or  at 
least,  tolerated  by  the  ordinary  in  writing,  do  attempt 
to  supply  the  office  of  a  minister  in  saying  divine  service 
openly  in  any  church  or  chapel." 

In  the  Lincoln  diocese  in  1588  the  clerk  was  still 
allowed  to  read  one  lesson  and  the  epistle,  but  he  was 
forbidden  from  saying  the  service,  ministering  any 
sacraments  or  reading  any  homily.  In  some  cases 
greater  freedom  was  allowed.  In  the  beautiful  Lady 
Chapel  of  the  Church  of  St.  Mary  Overy  there  is  pre- 
served a  curious  record  relating  to  this  : 

"Touching  the  Parish  Clerk  and  Sexton  all  is  well  ; 
only  our  clerk  doth  sometimes  to  ease  the  minister  read 
prayers,    church   women,    christen,    bury   and   marry, 
being  allowed  so  to  do. 
"  December  9.  1634." 

Bishop  Joseph  Hall  of  Exeter  asked  in  1638  in  his 
visitation  articles,  "Whether  in  the  absence  of  the 
minister  or  at  any  other  time  the  Parish  Clerk,  or  any 
other  lay  person,  said  Common  Prayer  openly  in  the 


CLERKS   TOO   CLERICAL  81 

church  or  any  part  of  the  Divine  Service  which  is 
proper  to  the  Priest?" 

Archdeacon  Marsh,  of  Chichester,  in  1640  inquires : 
"  Hath  your  Parish  Clerk  or  Sexton  taken  upon  him  to 
meddle  with  anything  above  his  office,  as  churching  of 
women,  burying  of  the  dead,  or  such  like?" 

During  the  troublous  times  of  the  Commonwealth 
period  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  clerk  often  per- 
formed functions  which  were  "  above  his  office,"  when 
clergymen  were  banished  from  their  livings.  We  have 
noticed  already  an  example  of  the  burial  service  being 
performed  by  the  clerk  when  he  was  so  rudely  treated 
by  angry  Parliamentarians  for  using  the  Book  of  Com- 
mon Prayer.  Here  is  an  instance  of  the  ceremony  of 
marriage  being  performed  by  the  parish  clerk  : 

"The  marriages  in  the  Parish  of  Dale  Abbey  were 
till  a  few  years  previous  to  the  Marriage  Act,  solem- 
nized by  the  Clerk  of  the  Parish,  at  one  shilling  each, 
there  being  no  minister." 

This  Marriage  Act  was  that  passed  by  the  Little 
Parliament  of  1653,  by  which  marriage  was  pro- 
nounced to  be  merely  a  civil  contract.  Banns  were 
published  in  the  market-place,  and  the  marriages 
were  performed  by  Cromwell's  Justices  of  the  Peace 
whom,  according  to  a  Yorkshire  vicar,  "that  impious 
and  rebell  appointed  out  of  the  basest  Hypocrites 
and  dissemblers  with  God  and  man."  The  clerks' 
marriage  ceremony  was  no  worse  than  that  of  the 
justices. 

Dr.  Macray,  of  the  Bodleian  Library,  has  discovered 

the  draft  of  a  licence  granted  by  Dr.  John  Mountain, 

Bishop  of  London,  to  Thomas  Dickenson,  parish  clerk 

of  Waltham  Holy  Cross,  in  the  year  1621,  permitting 

G 


82  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

him  to  read  prayers,  church  women,  and  bury  the 
dead.  This  licence  states  that  the  parish  of  Waltham 
Holy  Cross  was  very  spacious,  many  houses  being  a 
long  distance  from  the  church,  and  that  the  curate  was 
very  much  occupied  with  his  various  duties  of  visiting 
the  sick,  burying  the  dead,  churching  women,  and 
other  business  belonging  to  his  office ;  hence  per- 
mission is  granted  to  Thomas  Dickenson  to  assist  the 
curate  in  reading  prayers  in  church,  burying  dead 
corpses,  and  to  church  women  in  the  absence  of  the 
curate,  or  when  the  curate  cannot  conveniently  perform 
the  same  duty  in  his  own  person. 

Doubtless  this  licence  was  no  solitary  exception,  and 
it  is  fairly  certain  that  other  clerks  enjoyed  the  same 
privileges  which  are  here  assigned  to  Master  Thomas 
Dickenson.  He  must  have  been  a  worthy  member  of 
his  class,  a  man  of  education,  and  of  skill  and  ability 
in  reading,  or  episcopal  sanction  would  not  have  been 
given  to  him  to  perform  these  important  duties. 

It  is  evident  that  parish  clerks  occasionally  at  least 
performed  several  important  clerical  functions  with  the 
consent  of,  or  in  the  absence  of  the  incumbents,  and 
that  in  spite  of  the  articles  in  the  visitations  of  some 
bishops  who  were  opposed  to  this  practice,  episcopal 
sanction  was  not  altogether  wanting. 

The  affection  with  which  the  parishioners  regarded 
the  clerk  is  evidenced  in  many  ways.  He  received 
from  them  many  gifts  in  kind  and  money,  such  as  eggs 
and  cakes  and  sheaves  of  corn.  Some  of  them  were 
demanded  in  early  times  as  a  right  that  could  not  be 
evaded  ;  but  the  compulsory  payment  of  such  goods 
was  abolished,  and  the  parishioners  willingly  gave  by 
courtesy  that  which  had  been  deemed  a  right. 

Sometimes  land  has  been  left  to  the  clerk  in  order 


SMUGGLING  DAYS  AND  SMUGGLING  WAYS    83 

that  he  may  ring  the  curfew-bell,  or  a  bell  at  night  and 
early  morning,  so  that  travellers  may  be  warned  lest 
they  should  lose  their  way  over  wild  moorland  or  bleak 
down,  and,  guided  by  the  sound  of  the  bell,  may  reach 
a  place  of  safety. 

An  old  lady  once  lost  her  way  on  the  Lincolnshire 
wolds,  nigh  Boston,  but  was  guided  to  her  home  by 
the  sound  of  the  church  bell  tolling  at  night.  So 
grateful  was  she  that  she  bequeathed  a  piece  of  land  to 
the  parish  clerk  on  condition  that  he  should  ring  one 
of  the  bells  from  seven  to  eight  o'clock  each  evening 
during  the  winter  months. 

There  is  a  piece  of  land  called  "  Curfew  Land"  at 
St.  Margaret's-at-Cliffe,  Kent,  the  rent  of  which  was 
directed  to  be  paid  to  the  clerk  or  other  person  who 
should  ring  the  curfew  every  evening  in  order  to  warn 
travellers  lest  they  should  fall  over  the  cliff,  as  the 
unfortunate  donor  of  the  land  did,  for  want  of  the  due 
and  constant  ringing  of  the  bell. 

In  smuggling  days,  clerks,  like  many  of  their 
betters,  were  not  immaculate.  The  venerable  vicar  of 
Worthing,  the  Rev.  E.  K.  Elliott,  records  that  the 
clerk  of  Broadwater  was  himself  a  smuggler,  and  in 
league  with  those  who  throve  by  the  illicit  trade. 
When  a  cargo  was  expected  he  would  go  up  to  the  top 
of  the  spire,  which  afforded  a  splendid  view  of  the  sea, 
and  when  the  coast  was  clear  of  preventive  officers  he 
would  give  the  signal  by  hoisting  a  flag.  Kegs  of 
contraband  spirits  were  frequently  placed  inside  two 
huge  tombs  which  have  sliding  tops,  and  which  stand 
near  the  western  porch  of  Worthing  church. 

The  last  run  of  smuggled  goods  in  that  neighbour- 
hood was  well  within  the  recollection  of  the  vicar,  and 
took  place  in  1855.  Some  kegs  were  taken  to  Charman 


84  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Dean  and  buried  in  the  ground,  and  although 
diligent  search  was  made,  the  smugglers  baffled  their 
pursuers. 

At  Soberton,  Hants,  there  is  an  old  vault  near  the 
chancel  door.  Now  the  flat  stone  is  level  with  the 
ground  ;  but  in  1800  it  rested  on  three  feet  of  brick- 
work, and  could  be  lifted  off  by  two  men.  Here  many 
kegs  of  spirit  that  paid  no  duty  were  deposited  by  an 
arrangement  with  the  clerk,  and  the  stone  lifted  on 
again.  This  secret  hiding-place  was  never  discovered, 
neither  did  the  curate  find  out  who  requisitioned  his 
horse  when  the  nights  favoured  smugglers. 

In  the  wild  days  of  Cornish  wreckers  and  wrecking, 
both  priest  and  clerk  are  said  to  have  taken  part  in  the 
sharing  of  the  tribute  of  the  sea  cast  upon  their  rock- 
bound  coast.  The  historian  of  Cornwall,  Richard 
Polwhele,  tells  of  a  wreck  happening  one  Sunday 
morning  just  before  service.  The  clerk,  eager  to  be 
at  the  fray,  announced  to  the  assembled  parishioners 
that  "  Measter  would  gee  them  a  holiday." 

I  will  not  vouch  for  the  truth  of  that  other  story  told 
in  the  Encyclopedia  of  Wit  (1801),  which  runs  as 
follows  : 

"A  parson  who  lived  on  the  coast  of  Cornwall, 
where  one  great  business  of  the  inhabitants  is  plun- 
dering from  ships  that  are  wrecked,  being  once  preach- 
ing when  the  alarm  was  given,  found  that  the  sound 
of  the  wreck  was  so  much  more  attractive  than  his 
sermon,  that  all  his  congregation  were  scampering  out 
of  church.  To  check  their  precipitation,  he  called  out, 
'  My  brethren,  let  me  entreat  you  to  stay  for  five  words 
more ' ;  and  marching  out  of  the  pulpit,  till  he  had  got 
pretty  near  the  door  of  the  church,  slowly  pronounced, 
'  Let  us  all  start  fair,'  and  ran  off  with  the  rest  of  them." 


SMUGGLING  DAYS  AND  SMUGGLING  WAYS    85 

An  old  parishioner  of  the  famous  Rev.  R.  S. 
Hawker  once  told  him  of  a  very  successful  run  of  a 
cargo  of  kegs,  which  the  obliging  parish  clerk  allowed 
the  smugglers  to  place  underneath  the  benches  and  in 
the  tower  stairs  of  the  church.  The  old  man  told  the 
story  thus  : 

"We  bribed  Tom  Hockaday,  the  sexton,  and  we 
had  the  goods  safe  in  the  seats  by  Saturday  night. 
The  parson  did  wonder  at  the  large  congregation,  for 
divers  of  them  were  not  regular  churchgoers  at  other 
times  ;  and  if  he  had  known  what  was  going  on,  he 
could  not  have  preached  a  more  suitable  discourse,  for 
it  was,  'Be  not  drunk  with  wine,  wherein  is  excess.' 
It  was  one  of  his  best  sermons  ;  but,  there,  it  did  not 
touch  us,  you  see  ;  for  we  never  tasted  anything  but 
brandy  and  gin." 

In  such  smuggling  ways  the  clerk  was  no  worse  than 
his  neighbours,  who  were  all  more  or  less  involved  in 
the  illicit  trade. 

The  old  Cornish  clerks  who  used  to  help  the 
smugglers  were  a  curious  race  of  beings,  remarkable 
for  their  familiar  ways  with  the  parson.  At  St. 
Clements  the  clergyman  one  day  was  reading  the 
verse,  "I  have  seen  the  ungodly  flourish  like  a  green 
bay  tree,"  when  the  clerk  looked  up  with  an  inquiring 
glance  from  the  desk  below,  ''How  can  that  be, 
maister?"  He  was  more  familiar  with  the  colour  of  a 
bay  horse  than  the  tints  of  a  bay  tree. 

At  Kenwyn  two  dogs,  one  of  which  belonged  to  the 
parson,  were  fighting  at  the  west  end  of  the  church  ; 
the  parson,  who  was  then  reading  the  second  lesson, 
rushed  out  of  the  pew  and  went  down  and  parted 
them.  Returning  to  his  pew,  and  doubtful  where  he 


86  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

had  left  off,  he  asked  the  clerk,  "  Roger,  where  was 
I?"  "  Why,  down  parting  the  dogs,  maister,"  replied 
Roger. 

Two  rocks  stand  out  on  the  South  Devon  coast  near 
Dawlish,  which  are  known  as  the  Parson  and  Clerk. 
A  wild,  weird  legend  is  told  about  these  rocks — of  a 
parson  who  desired  the  See  of  Exeter,  and  often  rode 
with  his  clerk  to  Dawlish  to  hear  the  latest  news  of 
the  bishop  who  was  nigh  unto  death.  The  wanderers 
lost  their  way  one  dark  night,  and  the  parson  exhibited 
most  unclerical  anger,  telling  his  clerk  that  he  would 
rather  have  the  devil  for  a  guide  than  him.  Of  course, 
the  devil  or  one  of  his  imps  obliged,  and  conducted 
the  wanderers  to  an  old  ruined  house,  where  there  was 
a  large  company  of  disguised  demons.  They  all 
passed  a  merry  night,  singing  and  carousing.  Then 
the  news  comes  that  the  bishop  is  dead.  The  parson 
and  clerk  determine  to  set  out  at  once.  Their  steeds 
are  brought,  but  will  not  budge  a  step.  The  parson 
cuts  savagely  at  his  horse.  The  demons  roar  with  un- 
earthly laughter.  The  ruined  house  and  all  the  devils 
vanish.  The  waves  are  overwhelming  the  riders,  and 
in  the  morning  the  wretches  are  found  clinging  to  the 
rocks  with  the  grasp  of  death,  which  ever  afterwards 
record  their  villainy  and  their  fate. 

Among  tales  of  awe  and  weird  mystery  stands  out 
the  story  of  the  adventures  of  Peter  Priestly,  clerk, 
sexton,  and  gravestone  cutter,  of  Wakefield,  who 
flourished  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  He 
was  an  old  and  much  respected  inhabitant  of  the  town, 
and  not  at  all  given  to  superstitious  fears.  One  Satur- 
day evening  he  went  to  the  church  to  finish  the  epitaph 
on  a  stone  which  was  to  be  in  readiness  for  removal 
before  Sunday.  Arrived  at  the  church,  where  he  had 


A   CLERK   OF   ST.    ALBANS  87 

his  workshop,  he  set  down  his  lantern  and  lighted  his 
other  candle,  which  was  set  in  a  primitive  candlestick 
formed  out  of  a  potato.  The  church  clock  struck  eleven, 
and  still  some  letters  remained  unfinished,  when  he 
heard  a  strange  sound,  which  seemed  to  say  "  Hiss  !" 
"Hush!"  He  resumes  his  work  undaunted.  Again 
that  awful  voice  breaks  in  once  more.  He  lights  his 
lantern  and  searches  for  its  cause.  In  vain  his  efforts. 
He  resolves  to  leave  the  church,  but  again  remembers 
his  promise  and  returns  to  his  work.  The  mystic  hour 
of  midnight  strikes.  He  has  nearly  finished,  and 
bends  down  to  examine  the  letters  on  the  stone.  Again 
he  hears  a  louder  "  Hiss  !"  He  now  stands  appalled. 
Terror  seizes  him.  He  has  profaned  the  Sabbath,  and 
the  sentence  of  death  has  gone  forth.  With  tottering 
steps  Peter  finds  his  way  home  and  goes  to  bed.  Sleep 
forsakes  him.  His  wife  ministers  to  him  in  vain.  As 
morning  dawns  the  good  woman  notices  Peter's  wig 
suspended  on  the  great  chair.  "  Oh,  Peter,"  she  cries, 
"  what  hast  thou  been  doing  to  burn  all  t'  hair  off  one 
side  of  thy  wig?"  "Ah  !  bless  thee,"  says  the  clerk, 
"thou  hast  cured  me  with  that  word."  The  mysterious 
"hiss"  and  "hush"  were  sounds  from  the  frizzling 
of  Peter's  wig  by  the  flame  of  the  candle,  which  to  his 
imperfect  sense  of  hearing  imported  things  horrible 
and  awful.  Such  is  the  story  which  a  writer  in  Hone's 
Year  Book  tells,  and  which  is  said  to  have  afforded 
Peter  Priestly  and  the  good  people  of  merry  Wakefield 
many  a  joke. 

The  Year  Book  is  always  full  of  interest,  and  in 
the  same  volume  I  find  an  account  of  a  most  worthy 
representative  of  the  profession,  one  John  Kent, 
the  parish  clerk  of  St.  Albans,  who  died  in  1798, 
aged  eighty  years.  He  was  a  very  venerable  and 


88  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

intelligent  man,  who  did  service  in  the  old  abbey 
church,  long  before  the  days  when  its  beauties  were 
desecrated  by  Grimthorpian  restoration,  or  when  it 
was  exalted  to  cathedral  rank.  For  fifty-two  years 
Kent  was  the  zealous  clerk  and  custodian  of  the 
minster,  and  loved  to  describe  its  attractions.  He  was 
the  friend  of  the  learned  Browne  Willis.  His  name 
is  mentioned  in  Cough's  Sepulchral  Monuments  of 
Great  Britain,  and  his  intelligence  and  knowledge 
noticed,  and  Newcombe,  the  historian  of  the  abbey, 
expressed  his  gratitude  to  the  good  clerk  for  much  in- 
formation imparted  by  him  to  the  author.  The  monks 
could  not  have  guarded  the  shrine  of  St.  Alban  with 
greater  care  than  did  Kent  protect  the  relics  of  good 
Duke  Humphrey.  His  veneration  for  all  that  the  abbey 
contained  was  remarkable.  A  story  is  told  of  a  gen- 
tleman who  purloined  a  bone  of  the  Duke.  The  clerk 
suspected  the  theft  but  could  never  prove  it,  though 
he  sometimes  taxed  the  gentleman  with  having  re- 
moved the  bone.  At  last,  just  before  his  death,  the 
man  restored  it,  saying  to  the  clerk,  "I  could  not 
depart  easy  with  it  in  my  possession." 

Kent  was  a  plumber  and  glazier  by  trade,  in  politics 
a  staunch  partisan  of  "the  Blues,"  and  on  account  ot 
his  sturdy  independence  was  styled  "Honest  John." 
He  performed  his  duties  in  the  minster  with  much  zeal 
and  ability,  his  knowledge  of  psalmody  was  unsur- 
passed, his  voice  was  strong  and  melodious,  and  he 
was  a  complete  master  of  church  music.  Unlike  many 
of  his  confreres,  he  liked  to  hear  the  congregation 
sing  ;  but  when  country  choirs  came  from  neighbour- 
ing churches  to  perform  in  the  abbey  with  instruments, 
contemptuously  described  by  him  as  "a  box  of 
whistles,"  the  congregation  being  unable  to  join  in  the 


A   CLERK   OF  ST.   ALBANS  89 

melodies,  he  used  to  give  out  the  anthem  thus  :  "  Sing 
ye  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  God.  ..."  Five  years 
before  his  death  he  had  an  attack  of  paralysis  which 
slightly  crippled  his  power  of  utterance,  though  this 
defect  could  scarcely  be  detected  when  he  was  engaged 
in  the  services  of  the  church.  Two  days  before  his 
death  he  sang  his  "swan-song."  Some  colours  were 
presented  to  the  volunteers  of  the  town,  and  were  con- 
secrated in  the  abbey.  During  the  service  he  sang 
the  2Oth  Psalm  with  all  the  strength  and  vivacity  of 
youth.  When  his  funeral  sermon  was  preached  the 
rector  alluded  to  this  dying  effort,  and  said  that  on 
the  day  of  the  great  service  "  Nature  seemed  to  have 
reassumed  her  throne  ;  and,  as  she  knew  it  was  to  be 
his  last  effort,  was  determined  it  should  be  his  best." 
The  body  of  the  good  clerk,  John  Kent,  rests  in  the 
abbey  church  which  he  loved  so  well,  in  a  spot  marked 
by  himself,  and  we  hope  that  the  "  restoration," 
somewhat  drastic  and  severe,  which  has  fallen  upon 
the  grand  old  church,  has  not  obscured  his  grave  or 
destroyed  the  memorial  of  this  worthy  and  excellent 
clerk. 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE   CLERK    IN   EPITAPH 

THE  virtues  of  many  a  parish  clerk  are  recorded  on 
numerous  humble  tombstones  in  village  church- 
yards. The  gratitude  felt  by  both  rector  and  people 
for  many  years  of  faithful  service  is  thus  set  forth, 
sometimes  couched  in  homely  verse,  and  occasionally 
marred  by  the  misplaced  humour  and  jocular  expres- 
sions and  puns  with  which  our  forefathers  thought  fit 
to  honour  the  dead.  In  this  they  were  not  original,  and 
but  followed  the  example  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans, 
the  Italians,  Spaniards,  and  French.  This  objection- 
able fashion  of  punning  on  gravestones  was  formerly 
much  in  vogue  in  England,  and  such  a  prominent 
official  as  the  clerk  did  not  escape  the  attention  of  the 
punsters.  Happily  the  quaint  fancies  and  primitive 
humour,  which  delighted  our  grandsires  in  the  produc- 
tion of  rebuses  and  such-like  pleasantries,  no  longer 
find  themselves  displayed  upon  the  fabric  of  our 
churches,  and  the  "merry  jests"  have  ceased  to  ap- 
pear upon  the  memorials  of  the  dead.  We  will  glance 
at  the  clerkly  epitaphs  of  some  of  the  worthies  who 
have  held  the  office  of  parish  clerk  who  were  deemed 
deserving  of  a  memorial. 

In  the  southern  portion  of  the  churchyard  attached 

90 


THE   CLERK   IN    EPITAPH  91 

to  St.  Andrew's  Church,   Rugby,  is  a  plain  upright 
stone  containing  the  following  inscription  : 

In  memory  of 

Peter  Collis 

33  years  Clerk  of 

this  Parish 
who  died  Feb^  28th  1818 

Aged  82  years 

[Some  lines  of  poetry  follow,  but  these  unfortunately 
are  not  now  discernible.] 

At  the  time  Peter  held  office  the  incumbent  was 
noted  for  his  card-playing  propensities,  and  the  clerk 
was  much  addicted  to  cock-fighting.  The  following 
couplet  relating  to  these  worthies  is  still  remembered  : 

No  wonder  the  people  of  Rugby  are  all  in  the  dark, 
With  a  card-playing  parson  and  a  cock-fighting  clerk. 

Peter's  father  was  clerk  before  him,  and  on  a  stone 
to  his  memory  is  recorded  as  follows  : 

In  memory  of 

John  Collis  Husband  of 

Eliz:  Collis  who  liv'd  in 

Wedlock  together  50  years 

he  served  as  Parish  Clerk  41  years 

And  died  June  igth  1781  aged  69  years 

Him  who  covered  up  the  Dead 

Is  himself  laid  in  the  same  bed 

Time  with  his  crooked  scythe  hath  made 

Him  lay  his  mattock  down  and  spade 

May  he  and  we  all  rise  again 

To  everlasting  life  AMEN. 

The  name  Collis  occurs  amongst  those  who  held 
the  office  of  parish  clerk  at  West  Haddon.  The 
Rev.  John  T.  Page,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  the 
above  information,1  has  gleaned  the  following  particu- 

1  cf.  Notes  and  Queries,  Tenth  Series,  ii.,  10  September,  1904,  p.  215. 


92  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

lars  from  the  parish  registers  and  other  sources.  The 
clerk  who  reigned  in  1903  was  Thomas  Adams,  who 
filled  the  position  for  eighteen  years.  He  succeeded 
his  father-in-law,  William  Prestidge,  who  died  24 
March,  1886,  after  holding  the  office  fifty-three  years. 
His  predecessor  was  Thomas  Collis,  who  died  30 
January,  1833,  after  holding  the  office  fifty-two  years, 
and  succeeded  John  Colledge,  who,  according  to  an 
old  weather-beaten  stone  still  standing  in  the  church- 
yard, died  12  September,  1781.  How  long  Colledge 
held  office  cannot  now  be  ascertained.  Here  are  some 
remarkable  examples  of  long  years  of  service,  Collis 
and  Prestidge  having  held  the  office  for  105  years. 

In  Shenley  churchyard  the  following  remarkable 
epitaph  appears  to  the  memory  of  Joseph  Rogers,  who 
was  a  bricklayer  as  well  as  parish  clerk  : 

Silent  in  dust  lies  mouldering-  here 
A  Parish  Clerk  of  voice  most  clear. 
None  Joseph  Rogers  could  excel 
In  laying  bricks  or  singing1  well ; 
Though  snapp'd  his  line,  laid  by  his  rod, 
We  build  for  him  our  hopes  in  God. 

A  remarkable  instance  of  longevity  is  recorded  on  a 
tombstone  in  Cromer  churchyard.  The  inscription 
runs  : 

Sacred  to  the  memory  of  David  Vial  who  departed 
this  life  the  26th  of  March,  1873,  aged  94  years, 
for  sixty  years  clerk  of  this  parish. 

At  the  village  church  of  Whittington,  near  Oswestry, 
there  is  a  well-known  epitaph,  which  is  worth  re- 
cording : 

March  i3th  1766  died  Thomas  Evans,  Parish  Clerk, 
aged  72. 

Old  Sternhold's  lines  or  "  Vicar  of  Bray  " 

Which  he  tuned  best  'twas  hard  to  say. 


THE   CLERK    IN    EPITAPH  93 

Another  remarkable  instance  of  longevity  is  that 
recorded  on  a  tombstone  in  the  cemetery  of  Eye, 
Suffolk,  erected  to  the  memory  of  a  faithful  clerk  : 

Erected  to  the  memory  of 

George  Herbert 
who  was  clerk  of  this  parish  for  more 

than  71  years 

and  who  died  on  the  ryth  May  1873 
aged  8 1  years. 

This  monument 
Is  erected  to  his  memory  by  his  grateful 

Friend 

the  Rev.  W.  Page  Roberts 
Vicar  of  Eye. 

Herbert  must  have  commenced  his  duties  very  early  in 
life  ;  according  to  the  inscription,  at  the  age  of  ten 
years. 

At  Scothorne,  in  Lincolnshire,  there  is  a  sexton- 
ringer-clerk  epitaph  on  John  Blackburn's  tombstone, 
dated  1739-40.  It  reads  thus  : 

Alas  poor  John 

Is  dead  and  gone 
Who  often  toll'd  the  Bell 

And  with  a  spade 

Dug-  many  a  grave 
And  said  Amen  as  well. 

The  Roes  were  a  great  family  of  clerks  at  Bakewell, 
and  the  two  members  who  occupied  that  office  at  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  and  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century  seem  to  have  been  endowed  with  good  voices, 
and  with  a  devoted  attachment  to  the  church  and  its 
monuments.  Samuel  Roe  had  the  honour  of  being 
mentioned  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  and  receives 
well-deserved  praise  for  his  care  of  the  fabric  of  Bake- 


94  THE    PARISH   CLERK 

well  Church,  and  his  epitaph  is  given,  which  runs  as 
follows :  -P 

The  memory  of 
SAMUEL  ROE 

Clerk 
of  the  Parish  Church  of  Bakewell, 

which  office 
he  filled  thirty-five  years 

with  credit  to  himself 
and  satisfaction  to  the  inhabitants. 

His  natural  powers  of  voice, 

in  clearness,  strength,  and  sweetness 

were  altogether  unequalled. 

He  died  October  3ist,  1792 

Aged  70  years 

The   correspondent    of    the    Gentleman's  Magazine 
wrote  thus  of  this  faithful  clerk  : 

"Mr.  Urban, 

"It  was  with  much  concern  that  I  read  the 
epitaph  upon  Mr.  Roe  in  your  last  volume,  page  1192. 
Upon  a  little  tour  which  I  made  in  Derbyshire  in  1789, 
I  met  with  that  worthy  and  very  intelligent  man  at 
Bakewell,  and  in  the  course  of  my  antiquarian  re- 
searches there,  derived  no  inconsiderable  assistance 
from  his  zeal  and  civility.  If  he  did  not  possess  the 
learning  of  his  namesake,  your  old  and  valuable 
correspondent,1  I  will  venture  to  declare  that  he  was 
not  less  influenced  by  a  love  and  veneration  for 
antiquity,  many  proofs  of  which  he  had  given  by  his 
care  and  attention  to  the  monuments  of  the  church 
which  were  committed  to  his  charge  ;  for  he  united  the 
characters  of  sexton,  clerk,  singing-master,  will-maker, 

1  T.  Row  stands  for  The  Sector  Of  W 'hittington,  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Pegge.    cf.  Curious  Epitaphs,  by  W.  Andrews,  p.  124. 


THE   CLERK    IN    EPITAPH  95 

and  schoolmaster.  Finding  that  I  was  quite  alone,  he 
requested  permission  to  wait  upon  me  at  the  inn  in 
the  evening,  urging  as  a  reason  for  this  request  that 
he  must  be  exceedingly  gratified  by  the  conversation 
of  a  gentleman  who  could  read  the  characters  upon 
the  monument  of  Vernon,  the  founder  of  Haddon 
House,  a  treat  he  had  not  met  with  for  many  years. 
After  a  very  pleasant  gossip  we  parted,  but  not  till  my 
honest  friend  had,  after  some  apparent  struggle, 
begged  of  me  to  indulge  him  with  my  name." 

To  this  worthy  clerk's  care  is  due  the  preservation 
of  the  Vernon  and  other  monuments  in  Bakewell 
Church.  Mr.  Andrews  tells  us  that  "  in  some  in- 
stances he  placed  a  wooden  framework  to  keep  off  the 
rough  hands  and  rougher  knives  of  the  boys  and 
young  men  of  the  congregation.  He  also  watched 
with  special  care  the  Wenderley  tomb,  and  even  took 
careful  rubbings  of  the  inscriptions."  l 

The  inscription  on  the  tomb  of  the  son  of  this  worthy 
clerk  proves  that  he  inherited  his  father's  talents  as 
regards  musical  ability : 

Erected 
In  remembrance  of 

PHILIP  ROE 

Who  died  i2th  September,  1815, 
Aged  52  years. 

The  vocal  Powers  here  let  us  mark 

Of  Philip  our  late  Parish  Clerk, 

In  church  none  ever  heard  a  Layman 

With  a  clearer  voice  say  '  Amen  ' ! 

Who  now  with  Hallelujahs  sound 

Like  him  can  make  this  roof  rebound? 

The  Choir  lament  his  Choral  Tones 

The  Town — so  soon  Here  lie  his  Bones. 

Sleep  undisturb'd  within  thy  peaceful  shrine 

Till  Angels  wake  thee  with  such  notes  as  thine. 

1  W.  Andrews,  Curious  Epitaphs,  p.  124. 


96  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

The  last  two  lines  are  a  sweet  and  tender  tribute 
truly  to  the  memory  of  this  melodious  clerk. 

A  writer  in  All  the  Year  Round,1  who  has  been  iden- 
tified as  Cuthbert  Bede,  the  author  of  the  immortal 
Verdant  Greeny  tells  of  the  Osbornes  and  Worrals, 
famous  families  of  clerks,  quoting  instances  of  the 
hereditary  nature  of  the  office.  He  wrote  as  follows 
concerning  them  : 

"  As  a  boy  I  often  attended  the  service  at  Belbrough- 
ton  Church,  Worcestershire,  when  the  clerk  was  Mr. 
Osborne,  tailor.  His  family  had  been  parish  clerks 
and  tailors  since  the  time  of  Henry  VIII,  and  were 
lineally  descended  from  William  Fitz-Osborne,  who  in 
the  twelfth  century  had  been  deprived  by  Ralph  Fitz- 
Herbert  of  his  right  to  the  manor  of  Bellam,  in  the 
parish  of  Bellroughton.  Often  have  I  stood  in  the 
picturesque  churchyard  of  Wolverley,  Worcestershire, 
by  the  grave  of  the  old  parish  clerk,  whom  I  well 
remember,  old  Thomas  Worrall,  the  inscription  on 
whose  monument  is  as  follows  : 

Sacred  to  the  memory  of 

THOMAS  WORRALL, 
parish  clerk  of  Wolverley  for  a  period  of 

forty-seven  years. 
Died  A.D.  1854,  February  23rd. 

He  served  with  faithfulness  in  humble  sphere 
As  one  who  could  his  talents  well  employ, 

Hope  that  when  Christ  his  Lord  shall  reappear, 
He  may  be  bidden  to  his  Master's  joy. 

This  tombstone  was  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  deceased 
by  a  few  parishioners  in  testimony  of  his  worth,  April  1855. 

Charles  R.  Somers  Cocks, 

Vicar. 
1  No,  624,  New  Series,  p.  83. 


THE   CLERK   IN   EPITAPH  97 

It  may  be  noted  of  this  worthy  clerk  that,  with 
the  exception  of  a  week  or  two  before  his  death,  he 
was  never  absent  from  his  Sunday  and  weekday 
duties  in  the  forty-seven  years  during  which  he  held 
office. 

He  succeeded  his  father,  James  Worrall,  who  died 
in  1806,  aged  seventy-nine,  after  being  parish  clerk  of 
Wolverley  for  thirty  years.  His  tombstone,  near  to  that 
of  his  son,  was  erected  "to  record  his  worth  both  in 
his  public  and  private  character,  and  as  a  mark  of 
personal  esteem — p.  1.  F.  H.  and  W.  C.  p.  c."  I  am 
told  that  these  initials  stand  for  F.  Hustle,  and  the 
Rev.  William  Callow,  and  that  the  latter  was  the 
author  of  the  following  lines  inscribed  on  the  monu- 
ment, which  are  well  worth  quoting  : 

If  courtly  bards  adorn  each  statesman's  bust 
And  strew  their  laurels  o'er  each  warrior's  dust, 
Alike  immortalise,  as  good  and  great, 
Him  who  enslaved  as  him  who  saved  the  State, 
Surely  the  Muse  (a  rustic  minstrel)  may 
Drop  one  wild  flower  upon  a  poor  man's  clay. 
This  artless  tribute  to  his  mem'ry  give 
Whose  life  was  such  as  heroes  seldom  live. 
In  worldly  knowledge,  poor  indeed  his  store — 
He  knew  the  village,  and  he  scarce  knew  more. 
The  worth  of  heavenly  truth  he  justly  knew — 
In  faith  a  Christian,  and  in  practice  too. 
Yes,  here  lies  one,  excel  him  ye  who  can  : 
Go!  imitate  the  virtues  of  that  man  ! 

The  famous  "Amen"  epitaph  at  Crayford,  Kent,  is 
well  known,  though  the  name  of  the  clerk  who  is  thus 
commemorated  is  sometimes  forgotten.  It  is  to  the 
memory  of  one  Peter  Snell,  who  repeated  his  "  Amens" 
diligently  for  a  period  of  thirty  years,  and  runs  as 
follows : 


98  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

Here  lieth  the  body  of 

Peter  Snell, 

Thirty  years  clerk  of  this  Parish. 

He  lived  respected  as  a  pious  and  mirthful  man, 

and  died  on  his  way  to  church  to 

assist  at  a  wedding, 
on  the  3ist  of  March,  1811, 

Aged  seventy  years. 

The  inhabitants  of  Crayford  have  raised  this  stone 

to  his  cheerful  memory,  and  as  a  tribute  to  his  long 

and  faithful  services. 

The  life  of  this  clerk  was  just  threescore  and  ten, 
Nearly  half  of  which  time  he  had  sung  out  Amen. 
In  his  youth  he  had  married  like  other  young  men, 
But  his  wife  died  one  day — so  he  chanted  Amen. 
A  second  he  took — she  departed — what  then  ? 
He  married  and  buried  a  third  with  Amen. 
Thus  his  joys  and  his  sorrows  were  treble,  but  then 
His  voice  was  deep  base,  as  he  sung  out  Amen. 
On  the  horn  he  could  blow  as  well  as  most  men, 
So  his  horn  was  exalted  to  blowing  Amen. 
But  he  lost  all  his  wind  after  threescore  and  ten, 
And  here  with  three  wives  he  waits  till  again 
The  trumpet  shall  rouse  him  to  sing  out  Amen. 

The  duties  of  sexton  and  parish  clerk  were  usually 
performed  by  one  person,  as  we  have  already  fre- 
quently noticed,  and  therefore  it  is  fitting  that  we 
should  record  the  epitaph  of  Old  Scarlett,  most  famous 
of  grave-diggers,  who  buried  two  queens,  both  the 
victims  of  stern  persecution,  ill-usage,  and  Tudor 
tyranny — Catherine,  the  divorced  wife  of  Henry  VIII, 
and  poor  sinning  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  His  famous 
picture  in  Peterborough  Cathedral,  on  the  wall  of  the 
western  transept,  usually  attracts  the  chief  attention  of 
the  tourist,  and  has  preserved  his  name  and  fame.  He 
is  represented  with  a  spade,  pickaxe,  keys,  and  a  whip 
in  his  leathern  girdle,  and  at  his  feet  lies  a  skull.  In 


OLD   SCARLETT 


THE   CLERK   IN    EPITAPH 


99 


the  upper  left-hand  corner  appear  the  arms  of  the  see 
of  Peterborough,  save  that  the  cross-keys  are  con- 
verted into  cross-swords.  The  whip  at  his  girdle 
appears  to  show  that  Old  Scarlett  occupied  the  position 
of  dog-whipper  as  well  as  sexton.  There  is  a  descrip- 
tion of  this  portrait  in  the  Book  of  Days,  wherein  the 
writer  says  : 

"  What  a  lively  effigy — short,  stout,  hardy,  self-com- 
placent, perfectly  satisfied,  and  perhaps  even  proud 
of  his  profession,  and  content  to  be  exhibited  with 
all  its  insignia  about  him  !  Two  queens  had  passed 
through  his  hands  into  that  bed  which  gives  a  lasting 
rest  to  queens  and  to  peasants  alike.  An  officer  of 
death,  who  had  so  long  defied  his  principal,  could  not 
but  have  made  some  impression  on  the  minds  of 
bishop,  dean,  prebends,  and  other  magnates  of  the 
cathedral,  and  hence,  as  we  may  suppose,  the  erection 
of  this  lively  portraiture  of  the  old  man,  which  is 
believed  to  have  been  only  once  renewed  since  it  was 
first  put  up.  Dr.  Dibdin,  who  last  copied  it,  tells  us 
that  'old  Scarlett's  jacket  and  trunkhose  are  of  a 
brownish  red,  his  stockings  blue,  his  shoes  black,  tied 
with  blue  ribbons,  and  the  soles  of  his  feet  red.  The 
cap  upon  his  head  is  red,  and  so  also  is  the  ground  of 
the  coat  armour.' "  Beneath  the  portrait  are  these  lines : 

YOU  SEE  OLD  SCARLETTS  PICTURE  STAND  ON  HIE 

BUT  AT  YOUR  FEETE  THERE  DOTH  HIS  BODY  LYE 

HIS  GRAVESTONE  DOTH  HIS  AGE  AND  DEATH  TIME  SHOW 

HIS  OFFICE  BY  THEIS  TOKENS  YOU  MAY  KNOW 

SECOND  TO  NONE  FOR  STRENGTH  AND  STURDYE  LIMM 

A  SCARBABE  MIGHTY  VOICE  WITH  VISAGE  GRIM 

HEE  HAD  INTER'D  TWO  QUEENES  WITHIN  THIS  PLACE 

AND  THIS  TOWNES  HOUSEHOLDERS  IN  HIS  LIVES  SPACE 

TWICE  OVER  :   BUT  AT  LENGTH  HIS  OWN  TURNE  CAME 

WHAT  HE  FOR  OTHERS  DID  FOR  HIM  THE  SAME 

WAS  DONE  :  NO  DOUBT  HIS  SOUL  DOTH  LIVE  FOR  AYE 

IN  HEAVEN  :  THOUGH  HERE  HIS  BODY  CLAD  IN  CLAY. 


ioo  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

On  the  floor  is  a  stone  inscribed  "]VLY  2  1594  R.S. 
aetatis  98."  This  painting  is  not  a  contemporary 
portrait  of  the  old  sexton,  but  a  copy  made  in  1747. 

The  sentiment  expressed  in  the  penult  couplet  is  not 
uncommon,  the  idea  of  retributive  justice,  of  others 
performing  the  last  offices  for  the  clerk  who  had  so 
often  done  the  like  for  his  neighbours.  The  same 
notion  is  expressed  in  the  epitaph  of  Frank  Raw,  clerk 
and  monumental  mason,  of  Selby,  Yorkshire,  which 
runs  as  follows : 

Here  lies  the  body  of  poor  FRANK  RAW 

Parish  clerk  and  gravestone  cutter, 
And  this  is  writ  to  let  you  know 
What  Frank  for  others  used  to  do 

Is  now  for  Frank  done  by  another.1 

The  achievement  of  Old  Scarlett  with  regard  to  his 
interring  "the  town's  householders  in  his  life's  space 
twice  over,"  has  doubtless  been  equalled  by  many  of 
the  long-lived  clerks  whose  memoirs  have  been  re- 
corded, but  it  is  not  always  recorded  on  a  tombstone. 
At  Ratcliffe-on-Soar  there  is,  however,  the  grave  of  an 
old  clerk,  one  Robert  Smith,  who  died  in  1782,  at  the 
advanced  age  of  eighty-two  years,  and  his  epitaph 
records  the  following  facts  : 

Fifty-five  years  it  was,  and  something-  more, 
Clerk  of  this  parish  he  the  office  bore, 

And  in  that  space,  'tis  awful  to  declare, 
Two  generations  buried  by  him  were  !  * 

It  is  recorded  on  the  tomb  of  Hezekiah  Briggs,  who 
died  in  1844  ln  his  eightieth  year,  the  clerk  and  sexton 
of  Bingley,  Yorkshire,  that  "  he  buried  seven  thousand 
corpses."3 

1  Curious  Epitaphs,  by  W.  Andrews,  p.  120.  2  Ibid.  p.  121. 

2  Notes  and  Queries,  Ninth  Series,  xii.  453. 


THE   CLERK   IN    EPITAPH  101 

The  verses  written  in  his  honour  are  worth  quoting  : 

Here  lies  an  old  ringer  beneath  the  cold  clay 
Who  has  rung-  many  peals  both  for  serious  and  gay  ; 
Through  Grandsire  and  Trebles  with  ease  he  could  range, 
Till  death  called  Bob,  which  brought  round  the  last  change. 
For  all  the  village  came  to  him 
When  they  had  need  to  call ; 
His  counsel  free  to  all  was  given, 

For  he  was  kind  to  all. 
Ring  on,  ring  on,  sweet  Sabbath  bell, 
Still  kind  to  me  thy  matins  swell, 
And  when  from  earthly  things  I  part, 
Sigh  o'er  my  grave  and  lull  my  heart. 

These  last  four  lines  strike  a  sweet  note,  and  are  far 
superior  to  the  usual  class  of  monumental  poetry.  I 
will  not  guarantee  the  correct  copying  of  the  third  and 
fourth  lines.  Various  copyists  have  produced  various 
versions.  One  version  runs  : 

Bob  majors  and  trebles  with  ease  he  could  bang, 
Till  Death  called  a  bob  which  brought  the  last  clang. 

In  Staple-next-Wingham,  Kent,  there  is  a  stone  to 
the  memory  of  the  parish  clerk  who  died  in  1820, 
aged  eighty-six  years,  and  thus  inscribed  : 

He  was  honest  and  just,  in  friendship  sincere, 
And  Clerk  of  this  Parish  for  sixty-seven  years. 

At  Worth  Church,  Sussex,  near  the  south  entrance 
is  a  headstone,  inscribed  thus  : 

In  memory  of  John  Alcorn,  Clerk  and  Sexton  of  this 
parish,  who  died  Dec.  13  :  1868  in  the  8ist  year  of  his  age. 

Thine  honoured  friend  for  fifty  three  full  years, 
He  saw  each  bridal's  joy,  each  Burial's  tears  ; 
Within  the  walls,  by  Saxons  reared  of  old, 
By  the  stone  sculptured  font  of  antique  mould, 
Under  the  massive  arches  in  the  glow, 
Tinged  by  dyed  sun-beams  passing  to  and  fro, 
A  sentient  portion  of  the  sacred  place, 
A  worthy  presence  with  a  well-worn  face. 


102  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

The  lich-gate's  shadow,  o'er  his  pall  at  last 
Bids  kind  adieu  as  poor  old  John  goes  past. 
Unseen  the  path,  the  trees,  the  old  oak  door, 
No  more  his  foot-falls  touch  the  tomb-paved  floor, 
His  silvery  head  is  hid,  his  service  done 
Of  all  these  Sabbaths  absent  only  one. 
And  now  amidst  the  graves  he  delved  around, 
He  rests  and  sleeps,  beneath  the  hallowed  ground. 

Keep  Innocency,  and  take  heed  unto  the  thing  that  is 
right,  For  that  shall  bring  a  man  peace  at  the  last.  Psalm 
xxxvii.  38. 

There  is  an  interesting  memorial  of  an  aged  parish 
clerk  in  Cropthorne  Church,  Worcestershire,  an  edifice 
of  considerable  note.  It  consists  of  a  small  painted- 
glass  window  in  the  tower,  containing  a  full-length 
portrait  of  the  deceased  official,  duly  apparelled  in  a 
cassock. 

There  is  in  the  King's  Norton  parish  churchyard  an 
old  gravestone  the  existence  of  which  I  dare  say  a 
good  many  people  had  forgotten  until  recently,  owing 
to  the  inscription  having  become  almost  illegible. 
Within  the  past  few  weeks  it  has  been  renovated,  and 
thus  a  record  has  been  prevented  from  dropping  out  of 
public  memory.  The  stone  sets  forth  that  it  was 
erected  to  the  memory  of  Isaac  Ford,  a  shoemaker, 
who  was  for  sixty-two  years  parish  clerk  of  King's 
Norton,  and  who  died  on  10  July,  1755,  aged  eighty- 
five  years.  Beneath  is  another  interesting  inscription 
to  the  effect  that  Henry  Ford,  son  of  Isaac,  who  died 
on  ii  July,  1795,  aged  eighty-one,  was  also  parish 
clerk  for  forty  years.  The  two  men  thus  held  contin- 
uous office  for  one  hundred  and  two  years.  This  is  a 
famous  record  of  long  service,  though  it  has  been  sur- 
passed by  a  few  others,  our  parish  clerks  being  a  long- 
lived  race. 


THE   CLERK   IN   EPITAPH  103 

At  Stoulton  Church  a  clerk  died  in  1812,  and  it  is 
recorded  on  his  epitaph  that  "  He  was  clerk  of  this 
parish  more  30  years  and  much  envied."  It  was 
not  his  office  or  his  salary  which  was  envied,  but 
" a  worn't  much  liked  by  the  t'others,"  and  yet  followed 
the  verse: 

A  loving  husband,  father  dear, 
A  faithful  friend  lies  buried  here. 

An  epitaph  without  a  "werse"  was  considered  very 
degrading. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  WORSHIPFUL  COMPANY  OF 
PARISH   CLERKS 

THE  story  of  the  City  companies  of  London  has 
many  attractions  for  the  historian  and  antiquary. 
When  we  visit  the  ancient  homes  of  these  great 
societies  we  are  impressed  by  their  magnificence  and 
interesting  associations.  Portraits  of  old  City  worthies 
and  royal  benefactors  gaze  at  us  from  the  walls,  and 
link  our  time  with  theirs,  when  they,  too,  strove  to 
uphold  the  honour  of  their  guild  and  benefit  their 
generation.  Many  a  quaint  old-time  custom  and 
ceremonial  usage  linger  on  within  the  old  halls,  and 
there  too  are  enshrined  cuirass  and  targe,  helmet, 
sword  and  buckler,  which  tell  the  story  of  the  past,  and 
of  the  part  the  companies  played  in  national  defence 
or  in  the  protection  of  civic  rights.  Turning  down 
some  dark  alley  and  entering  the  portals  of  one  of 
their  halls,  we  are  transported  at  once  from  the  busy 
streets  and  din  of  modern  London  into  a  region  of 
old-world  memories  which  has  a  fascination  that  is 
all  its  own. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the  origin  of  guilds 
and  City  companies,  which  can  trace  back  their  descent 
to  Anglo-Saxon  times  and  were  usually  of  a  religious 
type.  They  were  the  benefit  societies  of  ancient  days, 

104 


~r  ~ 


ENTRANCK   TO   THE    HALL   OK  THK   COMPANY   OF   PARISH    CLKRKS 


THE   COMPANY  OF   PARISH   CLERKS        105 

institutions  of  self-help,  combining  care  for  the  needy 
with  the  practice  of  religion,  justice,  and  morality. 
There  were  guilds  exclusively  religious,  guilds  of  the 
calendars  for  the  clergy,  social  guilds  for  the  purpose 
of  promoting  good  fellowship,  benevolence,  and  thrift, 
merchant  guilds  for  the  regulation  of  trade,  and  frith 
guilds  for  the  promotion  of  peace  and  the  establish- 
ment of  law  and  order. 

In  this  goodly  company  we  find  evidences  at  an  early 
date  of  the  existence  of  the  Fraternity  of  Parish  Clerks. 
Its  long  and  important  career,  though  it  ranked  not 
with  the  Livery  Companies,  and  sent  not  its  members 
to  take  part  in  the  deliberations  of  the  Common 
Council,  is  full  of  interest,  and  reflects  the  greatest 
credit  on  the  worthy  clerks  who  composed  it. 

In  other  cities  besides  London  the  clerks  seem  to 
have  formed  their  guilds.  As  early  as  the  time  of  the 
Domesday  Survey  there  was  a  clerks'  guild  at  Can- 
terbury, wherein  it  is  stated  "In  cimtate  Cantuaria 
habet  achiepiscopus  xii  burgesses  and  xxxii  mansuras 
which  the  clerks  of  the  town,  clericide  villa,  hold  within 
their  gild  and  do  yield  xxxv  shillings." 

The  first  mention  of  the  company  carries  us  back 
to  the  early  days  of  Henry  III,  when  in  the  seven- 
teenth year  of  that  monarch's  reign  (A.D.  1233),  ac- 
cording to  Stow,  they  were  incorporated  and  registered 
in  the  books  of  the  Guildhall.  The  patron  saint  of 
the  company  was  St.  Nicholas,  who  also  extended 
his  patronage  to  robbers  and  mariners.  Thieves  are 
dubbed  by  Shakespeare  as  St.  Nicholas's  clerks,1  and 
Rowley  calls  highwaymen  by  the  same  title.  Possibly 
this  may  be  accounted  for  by  the  association  of  the 
light-fingered  fraternity  with  Nicholas,  or  Old  Nick, 

1  Henry  IV,  act  ii.  sc.  i. 


106  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

a  cant  name  for  the  devil,  or  because  The  Golden 
Legend  tells  of  the  conversion  of  some  thieves  through 
the  saint's  agency.  At  any  rate,  the  good  Bishop  of 
Myra  was  the  patron  saint  of  scholars,  and  therefore 
was  naturally  selected  as  tutelary  guardian  of  clerks. 

In  1442  Henry  VI  granted  a  charter  to  "  the  Chief  or 
Parish  Clerks  of  the  City  of  London  for  the  honour 
and  glory  of  Almighty  God  and  of  the  undefiled  and 
most  glorious  Virgin  Mary,  His  Mother,  and  on  account 
of  that  special  devotion,  which  they  especially  bore  to 
Christ's  glorious  confessor,  St.  Nicholas,  on  whose  day 
or  festival  we  were  first  presented  into  this  present 
world,  at  the  hands  of  a  mother  of  memory  ever  to  be 
revered."  The  charter  states  that  they  had  maintained 
a  poor  brotherhood  of  themselves,  as  well  as  a  certain 
divine  service,  and  divine  words  of  charity  and  piety, 
devised  and  exhibited  by  them  year  by  year,  for  forty 
years  or  more  by  part ;  and  it  conferred  on  them  the 
right  of  a  perpetual  corporate  community,  having  two 
masters  and  two  chaplains  to  celebrate  divine  offices 
every  day,  for  the  King's  welfare  whether  alive  or  dead, 
and  for  the  souls  of  all  faithful  departed,  for  ever. 
By  special  royal  grace  they  were  allowed,  on  petitioning 
His  Majesty,  to  have  the  charter  without  paying  any 
fine  or  fee. 

Seven  years  later  a  second  charter  was  granted, 
wherein  it  is  stated  that  their  services  were  held  in 
the  Chapel  of  Mary  Magdalene  by  the  Guildhall. 
"  Bretherne  and  Sisterne"  were  included  in  the  fra- 
ternity. Bad  times  and  the  Wars  of  the  Roses  brought 
distress  to  the  community,  and  they  prayed  Edward  IV 
to  refound  their  guild,  allowing  only  the  maintenance 
of  one  chaplain  instead  of  two  in  the  chapel  nigh  the 
Guildhall,  together  with  the  support  of  seven  poor 


THE   MASTER'S  CHAIR   AT   THE   PARISH    CLERKS'   HALL 


THE   COMPANY   OF   PARISH   CLERKS        107 

persons  who  daily  offered  up  their  prayers  for  the 
welfare  of  the  King  and  the  repose  of  the  souls  of  the 
faithful.  They  provided  "a  prest,  brede,  wyne,  wex, 
boke,  vestments  and  chalise  for  their  auter  of  S. 
Nicholas  in  the  said  chapel."  The  King  granted  their 
request. 

The  original  home  of  the  guild  was  in  Bishopsgate. 
Brewers'  Hall  was,  in  1422,  lent  to  them  for  their 
meetings.  But  the  old  deeds  in  the  possession  of  the 
company  show  that  as  early  as  1274  they  acquired  pro- 
perty "near  the  King's  highway  in  the  parish  of 
St.  Ethelburga,  extending  from  the  west  side  of  the 
garden  of  the  Nuns  of  St.  Helen's  to  near  the  stone 
wall  of  Bishopsgate  on  the  north,  in  breadth  from  the 
east  side  of  William  the  Whit  Tawyer's  to  the  King's 
highway  on  the  south."  These  two  highways  are  now 
known  as  Bishopsgate  Street  and  Camomile  Street. 
They  had  property  also  at  Finsbury  on  the  east  side 
of  Whitecross  Street.  Inasmuch  as  the  guild  did  not 
in  those  early  days  possess  a  charter  and  was  not  in- 
corporated, it  had  no  power  to  hold  property ;  hence 
the  lands  were  transmitted  to  individual  members  of 
the  fraternity.1  After  their  incorporation  in  1442  the 
trustees  of  the  lands  and  possessions  were  all  clerks. 
Another  property  belonged  to  them  at  Enfield. 

The  chief  possession  of  the  clerks  was  the  Bishops- 
gate  property.  It  consisted  of  an  inn  called  "The 
Wrestlers,"  another  inn  which  bore  the  sign  of  "The 
Angel,"  and  a  fair  entry  or  gate  near  the  latter  which 
still  bears  the  name  Clerks'  Place.  Wrestlers'  Court 
still  marks  the  site  of  the  old  inn — so  conservative  are 

1  The  transmission  of  the  property  is  carefully  traced  in  Some  Account 
of  Parish  Clerks,  by  Mr.  James  Christie,  p.  78.  He  had  access  to  the 
company's  muniments. 


io8  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

the  old  names  in  the  city  of  London.  Passing 
through  the  entry  we  should  have  seen  seven  modest 
almshouses  for  the  brethren  and  sisters  of  the  guilds. 
Beyond  these  was  the  hall  of  the  company.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  parlour  (36  ft.  by  14  ft.),  with  three  chambers 
over  it.  The  east  side  with  fan  glasses  overlooked  the 
garden,  72  ft.  in  length  by  21  ft.  wide.  The  west  side 
was  lined  with  wainscot.  The  actual  hall  adjoined,  a 
fine  room  30  ft.  by  25  ft.,  with  a  gallery  at  the  nether 
end,  with  a  little  parlour  at  the  west  end.  A  room  for 
the  Bedell,  a  kitchen  with  a  vault  under  it,  larder- 
rooms,  buttery,  and  a  little  house  called  the  Ewery, 
completed  the  buildings.  It  must  have  been  a  very 
delightful  little  home  for  the  company,  not  so  palatial 
as  that  of  some  of  the  greater  guilds,  but  compact, 
charming,  and  altogether  attractive. 

But  evil  days  set  in  for  the  City  companies  of 
London.  Spoliation,  greed,  destruction  were  in  the 
air.  Churches,  monasteries,  charities  felt  the  rude 
hand  of  the  spoiler,  and  it  could  scarcely  be  that  the 
rich  corporations  of  the  City  should  fail  to  attract  the 
covetous  eyes  of  the  rapacious  courtiers.  They  were 
forced  to  surrender  all  their  property  which  had  been 
used  for  so-called  "superstitious"  purposes,  and  most 
of  them  bought  this  back  with  large  sums  of  money, 
which  went  into  the  coffers  of  the  King  or  his 
ministers.  The  Parish  Clerks'  Company  fared  no 
better  than  the  rest.  Their  hall  was  seized  by 
the  King,  or  rather  by  the  infamous  courtiers  of 
Edward  VI,  and  sold,  together  with  the  almshouses, 
to  Sir  Robert  Chester  in  1548.  He  at  once  took  pos- 
session of  the  property,  but  the  clerks  protested  that 
they  had  been  wrongfully  despoiled,  and  again  seized 
their  rightful  possessions.  In  spite  of  the  sympathy 


THE   COMPANY  OF   PARISH   CLERKS        109 

and  support  of  the  Lord  Mayor,  who  "communed 
with  the  wardens  of  the  Great  Companies  for  their 
gentle  aid  to  be  granted  to  the  parish  clerks  towards 
their  charges  in  defence  of  their  title  to  their  Common 
Hall  and  lands,"  the  clerks  lost  their  case,  and  were 
compelled  to  give  up  their  home  or  submit  to  a  heavy 
fine  of  1000  marks  besides  imprisonment.  The  poor 
dispossessed  clerks  were  defeated,  but  not  dis- 
heartened. In  the  days  of  Queen  Mary  they  renewed 
their  suit,  and  "being  likely  to  have  prevailed,  Sir 
Robert  Chester  pulled  down  the  hall,  sold  the  timber, 
stone  and  land,  and  thereupon  the  suit  was  ended  " — 
a  very  summary  conclusion  truly  ! 

The  Lord  Mayor  and  his  colleagues  again  showed 
sympathy  and  compassion  for  the  dispossessed  clerks, 
and  offered  them  the  church  of  the  Hospital  of  St.  Mary 
of  Bethlehem  in  1552  for  their  meetings.  They  did 
not  lack  friends.  William  Roper,  whose  picture  still 
hangs  in  the  hall  of  the  company,  the  son-in-law  of 
Sir  Thomas  More,  was  a  great  benefactor,  who  be- 
queathed to  them  some  tenements  in  Southwark  on 
condition  that  they  should  distribute  £4  among  the 
poor  prisoners  in  Newgate  and  other  jails.  He  was 
the  biographer  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  and  died  in  1577. 

In  1610  the  clerks  applied  for  a  new  charter,  and 
obtained  it  from  James  I,  under  the  title  of  "The 
Parish  Clerks  of  the  Parishes  and  Parish  Churches  of 
the  City  of  London,  the  liberties  thereof  and  seven  out 
of  nine  out-parishes  adjoining."  They  were  required 
to  make  returns  for  the  bills  of  mortality  and  of  the 
deaths  of  freemen.  The  masters  and  wardens  had 
power  granted  to  them  to  examine  clerks  as  to  whether 
they  could  sing  the  Psalms  of  David  according  to  the 
usual  tunes  used  in  the  parish  churches,  and  whether 


no  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

they  were  sufficiently  qualified  to  make  their  weekly 
returns.  In  1636  a  new  charter  was  granted  by 
Charles  I,  and  again  in  1640,  this  last  charter  being 
that  by  which  the  company  is  now  governed.  By  this 
instrument  their  jurisdiction  was  extended  so  as  to 
include  Hackney  and  the  other  fifteen  out-parishes,  and 
they  gained  the  right  of  collecting  their  own  wages, 
and  of  suing  for  it  in  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  and  of 
printing  the  bills  of  mortality. 

Soon  after  the  company  lost  their  hall  through  the 
high-handed  proceedings  of  Sir  Robert  Chester,  they 
purchased  or  leased  a  new  hall,  which  was  situated  at 
the  north-east  corner  of  Erode  Lane,  Vintry,  where 
they  lived  from  1562,  until  the  Great  Fire  in  1666  again 
made  them  homeless.  The  Sun  Tavern  in  Leadenhall 
Street,  the  Green  Dragon,  Queenhythe,  the  Quest 
House,  Cripplegate,  the  Gun,  near  Aldgate,  and  the 
Mitre  in  Fenchurch  Street,  afforded  them  temporary 
accommodation.  In  1669  they  began  to  arrange  for 
a  new  hall  to  be  built  off  Wood  Street,  which  was 
completed  in  1671,  and  has  since  been  their  home. 
Various  sums  of  money  have  been  voted  at  different 
times  for  its  repair  or  embellishment.  It  has  once 
been  damaged  by  fire,  and  on  another  occasion  severely 
threatened.  In  1825  the  entrance  into  Wood  Street 
was  blocked  up  and  the  entrance  into  Silver  Street 
opened.  The  hall  has  been  a  favourite  place  of  meet- 
ing for  several  other  companies — the  Fruiterers'  Com- 
pany, the  Tinplate  Workers'  Company,  the  Society 
of  Porters,  and  other  private  companies  have  been 
their  tenants. 

I  had  recently  the  privilege  of  visiting  the  Parish 
Clerks'  Hall,  and  was  kindly  conducted  there  by  Mr. 
William  John  Smith,  the  "  Father"  of  the  company, 


PORTRAIT    OF   WILLIAM    ROPKR 

SON-IN-LAW    AND    BIOCRAl'HEK   OK    SIR   THOMAS   MOKE,    BENEFACTOR   OK   THE 
CI.KKKS'    COMPANY 


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THE   COMPANY  OF   PARISH    CLERKS        in 

and  a  liberal  benefactor,  whose  portrait  hangs  in  the 
hall.  He  has  been  three  times  master,  and  his  father 
and  grandfather  were  members  of  the  fraternity. 

The  premises  consist  of  a  ground  floor  with  cellars, 
which  are  let  for  private  purposes,  and  a  first  floor 
with  two  rooms  of  moderate  size.  The  old  courtyard 
is  now  covered  with  business  offices.  Over  the  court- 
room door  stands  a  copy  of  the  Clerks'  Arms,  which 
are  thus  described  :  "  The  feyld  azur,  a  flower  de  lice 
goulde  on  chieffe  gules,  a  leopard's  head  betwen  two 
pricksonge  bookes  of  the  second,  the  laces  that  bind 
the  books  next,  and  to  the  creast  upon  the  healme,  on 
a  wreathe  gules  and  azur,  an  arm,  from  the  elbow 
upwards,  holding  a  pricking  book,  3Oth  March,  1582." 
These  are  the  arms  "  purged  of  superstition"  by 
Robert  Cook,  Clarencieux  Herald,  on  the  aforemen- 
tioned date.  The  company's  motto  is,  Unitas  Societatis 
Stabilitas.  The  arms  over  the  court-room  door  have 
the  motto  Pange  lingua  gloriosa,  which  is  accounted  for 
by  the  fact  that  this  copy  of  the  clerks'  heraldic  achieve- 
ment formerly  stood  over  the  organ  in  the  hall.  This 
organ  is  a  small  but  pleasant  instrument,  and  was 
purchased  in  1737  in  order  to  enable  the  members  to 
practise  psalmody.  Several  portraits  of  worthy  clerks 
adorn  the  walls.  Amongst  them  we  notice  that  of 
William  Roper,  a  benefactor  of  the  company,  whose 
name  has  been  already  mentioned. 

The  portrait  of  John  Clarke  shows  a  firm,  dignified 
old  man,  who  was  the  parish  clerk  of  St.  Michael's, 
Cornhill,  in  1805,  and  wrote  extracts  from  the  minute- 
books  of  the  company.  The  picture  was  presented  to  the 
company  in  1827.  There  are  other  portraits  of  worthy 
clerks,  of  Richard  Hust,  who  died  in  1835,  an(^  was 
a  great  benefactor  of  the  company  and  the  restorer  of 


us  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

the  almshouses  ;  of  James  Mayhew  (1896),  and  of 
William  John  Smith  (1903). 

In  one  of  the  windows  is  the  portrait,  in  stained 
glass,  of  John  Clarke,  parish  clerk  of  Bartholomew-the- 
Less,  London,  master  of  the  company,  A.D.  1675, 
cetatis  suce  45.  He  is  represented  with  a  dark  skull 
cap  on  his  head,  long  hair,  a  moustache,  and  a  large 
falling  band  or  collar. 

There  are  also  portraits  in  stained  glass  of  Stephen 
Penckhurst,  parish  clerk  of  St.  Mary  Magdalene,  Fish 
Street,  London,  master  in  1685  ;  of  James  Maddox, 
parish  clerk  of  St.  Olive's,  Jury,  master  in  1684  ;  of 
Nicholas  Hudles,  parish  clerk  of  St.  Andrew's,  Under- 
shaft,  twice  master,  in  1674  and  1682 ;  of  Thomas 
Williams,  parish  clerk  of  St.  Mary  Magdalene,  Ber- 
mondsey,  master  in  1680 ;  of  Robert  Seal,  parish 
clerk  of  St.  Gregory,  master  in  1681  ;  of  William  Dis- 
brow,  parish  clerk  of  St.  Vedast,  Foster  Lane,  and  of 
St.  Michael  Le  Querne,  master  in  1674;  a°d  of  William 
Hornbuck,  parish  clerk  of  St.  James,  Clerkenwell, 
master  in  1679. 

One  of  the  windows  has  a  curious  emblematical 
representation  of  music  and  its  effects,  showing  King 
David  surrounded  by  cherubs.  The  royal  arms  of  the 
time  of  Charles  II,  the  arms  of  the  company,  the  arms 
of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  a  portrait  of  Queen  Anne 
also  appear  in  the  windows. 

The  master's  chair  was  presented  by  Samuel  Andrews, 
master  in  1716,  which  date  appears  on  the  back  together 
with  the  arms  of  the  company,  the  crest  being  an  arm 
raised  bearing  a  scroll  on  which  is  inscribed  the 
ninety-fourth  Psalm.  The  seat  of  the  chair  is  cane 
webbing.  Psalm  x.  is  inscribed  on  the  front,  and  below 
is  the  fleur-de-lis. 


II 

2  2 
<  U 
OH  * 


O     K 
M 

J     < 


THE   COMPANY   OF   PARISH   CLERKS        113 

There  is  an  interesting  warden's  or  clerk's  chair,  made 
of  mahogany,  dating  about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  and  some  walnut  chairs  fashioned  in  1690. 

Amongst  other  treasures  I  noticed  an  old  Dutch 
chest,  an  ancient  clock,  the  gift  of  the  master  and 
wardens  in  1786,  a  reprint  of  Visscher's  View  of  London 
in  1616,  the  grant  of  arms  to  the  company,  a  panel 
painting  of  the  Flight  into  Egypt,  and  the  Orders  and 
Rules  of  the  company  in  1709. 

A  snuff-box  made  of  the  wood  of  the  Victory, 
mounted  in  silver,  is  one  of  the  clerks'  valued  posses- 
sions, and  they  have  a  goodly  store  of  plate,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  they,  like  many  of  their  distinguished 
brethren,  the  Livery  Companies  of  the  City,  have  been 
obliged  at  various  critical  times  in  their  history  to  dis- 
pose of  their  plate  in  order  to  meet  the  heavy  demands 
upon  their  treasury.  They  still  possess  their  pall,  which 
is  used  on  the  occasion  of  the  funeral  of  deceased  mem- 
bers, and  also  "two  garlands  of  crimson  velvet  em- 
broidered" bearing  the  date  1601,  which  were  formerly 
used  at  the  election  of  the  two  masters.  The  master 
now  wears  a  silver  badge,  the  gift  of  Richard  Perkins 
in  1879,  which  bears  the  inscription  :  Hoc  insigne  in 
usum  Magistri  D.D.  Richardus  Perkins •,  SS.  Augustini 
et  Fidis  Clericus,  bis  Magistri  1878,  1879. 

By  far  the  most  interesting  document  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  company  is  the  Bede  Roll,  which  contains 
a  list  of  the  members  of  the  fraternity  from  the  time 
of  Henry  VI.  The  writing  is  magnificent,  and  the 
lettering  varies  in  colours — red,  blue,  and  black  ink 
having  been  used.  Amongst  the  distinguished  names 
of  the  honorary  members  I  noticed  John  Mowbray, 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  and  Richard  Neville,  Earl  of  Salis- 
bury. 


n4  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

The  company,  by  the  aid  of  generous  benefactors, 
looks  well  after  the  poor  widows  of  clerks  and  the 
decayed  brethren,  bestowing  upon  them  adequate 
pensions  for  their  support  in  their  indigence  and  old 
age.  These  benefactions  entrusted  to  the  care  of  the 
company,  and  the  gifts  by  its  members  of  plate  and 
other  treasures,  show  the  affectionate  regard  of  the 
parish  clerks  for  their  ancient  and  interesting  associa- 
tions, which  has  done  much  to  preserve  the  dignity 
of  the  office,  to  keep  inviolate  its  traditions,  and  to 
improve  the  status  of  its  members. 


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A  PAGE  OF  THE   I5EDE   ROLL  OF  THE   PARISH  CLERKS'  COMPANY 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE   CLERKS   OF   LONDON:   THEIR   DUTIES 
AND   PRIVILEGES 

A  BRIEF  study  of  the  history  of  the  Parish  Clerks' 
JL\  Company  has  already  revealed  the  important 
part  which  its  members  played  in  the  old  City  life  of 
London.  They  were  intimately  connected  with  the 
Corporation.  The  clerks  held  their  services  in  the 
Guildhall  Chapel,  and  were  required  on  Michaelmas 
Day  to  sing  the  Mass  before  the  Lord  Mayor,  alder- 
men, and  commoners  before  they  went  to  the  election 
of  a  new  Lord  Mayor.  As  early  as  the  days  of  the 
famous  Richard  Whittington,  on  the  occasion  of  his 
first  election  to  the  mayoralty,  which  as  the  popular 
rhyme  says  he  held  three  times,  we  hear  of  their 
services  being  required  for  this  great  function. 

In  the  year  1406  it  was  ordered  that  "a  Mass  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  should  be  celebrated  with  solemn  music  in 
the  chapel  annexed  to  the  Guildhall,  to  the  end  that 
the  same  commonalty  by  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
might  be  able  peacefully  and  amicably  to  nominate 
two  able  and  proper  persons  to  be  mayor  of  the  City 
for  the  ensuing  year,  the  same  Mass,  by  the  ordinance 
of  the  Chamberlain  for  the  time  being,  to  be  solemnly 
chanted  by  the  finest  singers,  in  the  chapel  aforesaid 
and  upon  that  feast." 

"5 


n6  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

And  when  the  Mass  was  no  longer  sung  in  the 
chapel  of  the  Guildhall,  they  still  chanted  the  Psalms 
and  anthems  before  and  after  divine  service  and 
sermon,  sometimes  with  the  help  of  "two  singing  men 
of  Paul's,"  who  received  twelvepence  apiece  for  their 
pains ;  and  sometimes  the  singing  was  done  by  a  con- 
venient number  of  the  Clerks'  Company  most  skilful 
in  singing,  and  deemed  most  fit  by  the  master  and 
wardens  to  perform  that  service. 

They  were  in  great  request  at  the  great  and  stately 
funerals  of  the  sixteenth  century,  going  before  the 
hearse  and  singing  with  their  surplices  hanging  on 
their  arms  till  they  came  to  the  church.  The  changes 
wrought  by  the  Reformation  strongly  affected  their 
use.  In  the  early  years  of  the  century  we  can  hear 
them  chanting  anthems,  dirige,  and  Mass ;  later  on 
they  sing  uthe  Te  Deum  in  English  new  fashion, 
Geneva  wise  —  men,  women  and  all  do  sing  and 
boys." 

These  splendid  funerals  were  a  fruitful  source  of 
income  to  the  Clerks'  Company.  We  see  Masters 
William  Holland  and  John  Aungell,  clerks  of  the 
Brotherhood  of  St.  Nicholas,  with  twenty-four  persons 
and  three  children  singing  the  Masses  of  Our  Lady, 
the  Trinity  and  Requiem  at  the  interment  of  Sir 
Thomas  Lovell,  the  sage  and  witty  counsellor  of  King 
Henry  VIII  and  Constable  of  the  Tower,  while  sixty- 
four  more  clerks  met  the  body  on  its  way  and  con- 
ducted it  to  its  last  resting-place  at  Holywell,  Shore- 
ditch.  Perhaps  it  was  not  without  some  satisfaction 
that  the  clerks  took  a  prominent  part  in  the  burial  of 
the  Duke  of  Somerset,  the  iniquitous  spoiler  of  their 
goods.  In  the  ordinances  of  the  companies  issued  in 
!553>  very  minute  regulations  are  laid  down  with 


THE   CLERKS   OF   LONDON  117 

regard  to  the  fees  for  funerals  and  the  order  in  which 
each  clerk  should  serve.  At  the  burials  of  "noble 
honourable,  worshipful  men  or  women  or  citizens  of 
the  City  of  London,"  the  attendance  of  the  clerks  was 
limited  to  the  number  asked  for  by  the  friends  of  the 
deceased.  No  person  was  to  receive  more  than  eight- 
pence.  The  beadle  might  charge  fourpence  for  the 
use  of  the  hearse  cloth.  An  extra  charge  of  fourpence 
could  be  made  if  the  clerks  were  wanted  both  in  the 
afternoon  and  in  the  forenoon  for  the  sermon  or  other 
service.  The  bearers  might  have  twopence  more  than 
the  usual  wage.  Each  clerk  was  to  have  his  turn  in 
attending  funerals,  so  that  no  one  man  might  be  taken 
for  favour  or  left  out  for  displeasure. 

The  records  of  these  gorgeous  funerals,  which  are 
preserved  in  Machyn's  diary  and  other  chronicles,  reveal 
the  changes  wrought  by  the  spread  of  Reformation  prin- 
ciples and  Puritan  notions.  In  Mary's  reign  they  were 
very  magnificent,  "  priests  and  clerks  chanting  in 
Latin,  the  priest  having  a  cope  and  the  clerk  the  holy 
water  sprinkle  in  his  hand."  The  accession  of  Eliza- 
beth seems  at  first  to  have  wrought  little  change,  and 
the  services  of  the  Clerks'  Company  were  in  great 
request.  On  21  October,  1559,  "  the  Countess  of  Rut- 
land was  brought  from  Halewell  to  Shoreditch  Church 
with  thirty  priests  and  clarkes  singing,"  and  "Sir 
Thomas  Pope  was  buried  at  Clerkenwell  with  two  ser- 
vices of  pryke  song,1  and  two  masses  of  requiem  and 
all  clerkes  of  London."  "  Poules  Choir  and  the 
Clarkes  of  London "  united  their  services  on  some 
occasions.  Funeral  sermons  began  to  be  considered 
an  important  part  of  the  function,  and  Machyn  records 
the  names  of  the  preachers.  Even  though  such  keen 

1  The  notes  of  the  harmony  were  pricked  on  the  lines  of  music. 


n8  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Protestants  as  Coverdale,  Bishop  Pilkington,  Robert 
Crowley,  and  Veron  preached  the  sermons,  twenty 
clerks  of  the  company  were  usually  present  singing. 
Machyn  much  disliked  the  innovations  made  by  the 
Puritan  party,  their  singing  "Geneva  wise"  or  "the 
tune  of  Genevay,"  men,  women,  and  children  all  sing- 
ing together,  without  any  clerk.  Here  is  a  description 
of  such  a  funeral  on  7  March,  1559:  "And  there  was 
a  great  company  of  people  two  and  two  together,  and 
neither  priest  nor  clarke,  the  new  preachers  in  their 
gowns  like  laymen,  neither  singing  nor  saying  till  they 
came  to  the  grave,  and  afore  she  was  put  in  the  grave, 
a  collect  in  English,  and  then  put  in  the  grave, 
and  after,  took  some  earth  and  cast  it  on  the  corse,  and 
red  a  thyng  .  .  .  for  the  sam,  and  contenent  cast  the 
earth  into  the  grave,  and  contenent  read  the  Epistle  of 
St.  Paul  to  the  Stesselonyans  the  .  .  .  chapter,  and 
after  they  sang  Pater  noster  in  English,  bothe 
preachers  and  other,  and  ...  of  a  new  fashion,  and 
after,  one  of  them  went  into  the  pulpit  and  made  a 
sermon."  Machyn  especially  disliked  the  preacher 
Veron,  rector  of  St.  Martin's,  Ludgate,  a  French 
Protestant,  who  had  been  ordained  by  Bishop  Ridley, 
and  was  "a  leader  in  the  change  from  the  old  eccle- 
siastical music  for  the  services  to  the  Psalms  in  metre, 
versified  by  Sternhold  and  Hopkins."1 

The  clerks  indirectly  caused  the  disgrace  and  suspen- 
sion of  Robert  Crowley,  vicar  of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegate, 
and  prebendary  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  a  keen  Puritan 
and  hater  of  clerkly  ways.  He  loathed  surplices  as 
"  rags  of  Popery,"  and  could  not  bear  to  see  the  clerks 
marching  in  orderly  procession  singing  and  chanting. 
A  funeral  took  place  at  his  church  on  i  April,  1566. 

1  Some  Account  of  Parish  Clerks,  by  J.  Christie,  p.  153. 


A  few  days  before,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  had 
issued  his  Advertisements  ordering  the  use  of  the  sur- 
plice. The  friends  of  the  deceased  had  engaged  the 
services  of  the  parish  clerks,  who,  believing  that  the 
order  with  regard  to  the  use  of  surplices  applied  to 
them  as  well  as  to  the  clergy,  appeared  at  the  door  of 
the  church  attired  according  to  their  ancient  usage.  A 
scene  occurred.  The  angry  Crowley  met  them  at  the 
door  and  bade  them  take  off  those  "porter's  coats." 
The  deputy  of  the  ward  supported  the  vicar  and 
threatened  to  lay  them  up  by  the  feet  if  they  dared  to 
enter  the  church  in  such  obnoxious  robes.  There  was 
a  mighty  disturbance.  "  Those  who  took  their  part 
according  to  the  queen's  prosedyngs  were  fain  to  give 
over  and  tarry  without  the  church  door."  The  Lord 
Mayor's  attention  was  called  to  this  disgraceful  scene. 
He  complained  to  the  archbishop.  The  deputy  of  the 
ward  was  bound  over  to  keep  the  peace,  and  Crowley 
was  ordered  to  stay  in  his  house,  and  for  not  wearing  a 
surplice  was  deprived  of  his  living,  to  which  he  was 
again  appointed  twelve  years  later.1  The  clerks 
triumphed,  but  their  services  at  funerals  soon  ceased. 
Puritan  opinions  spread  ;  no  longer  did  the  clerks  lead 
the  singing  and  processions  at  funereal  pageants,  and  a 
few  boys  from  Christ's  Hospital  or  school  children  took 
their  places  in  degenerate  days. 

The  Parish  Clerks'  Company  were  not  a  whit  behind 
other  City  companies  in  their  love  of  processions  and 
pageantry,  and  their  annual  feasts  and  elections  were 
conducted  with  great  ceremony  and  magnificence.  The 
elections  took  place  on  Ascension  Day,  and  the  feast 
on  the  following  Monday.  The  clerks  in  1529  were 
ordered  to  come  to  the  Guildhall  College  on  the  Sunday 

1  Some  Account  of  Parish  Clerks,  by  J.  Christie,  p.  154. 


120  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

before  Whit-Sunday  to  Evensong  clad  in  surplices,  and 
on  the  following  day  to  attend  Mass,  when  each  man 
offered  one  halfpenny.  When  Mass  was  over  they 
marched  in  procession  wearing  copes  from  the  Guildhall 
to  Clerks'  Hall,  where  the  feast  was  held.  Fines  were 
levied  for  absence  or  non-obedience  to  these  obser- 
vances. Machyn  describes  the  accustomed  usages  in 
Mary's  reign  as  follows:  "The  sixth  of  May  was  a 
goodly  evensong  at  Yeldhall  College  with  singing 
and  playing  as  you  have  heard.  The  morrow  after  was 
a  great  Mass  at  the  same  place  by  the  same  Fraternity, 
when  every  clerk  offered  a  half-penny.  The  Mass  was 
sung  by  divers  of  the  Queen's  Chapel  and  children. 
And  after  Mass  was  done  every  clerk  went  their  pro- 
cession, two  and  two  together,  each  having  a  surplice, 
a  rich  cope  and  a  garland.  After  them  fourscore 
standards,  streamers  and  banners,  and  every  one  that 
bare  had  an  albe,  or  else  a  surplice,  and  two  and  two 
together.  Then  came  the  waits  playing,  and  then 
between,  thirty  Clarkes  again  singing  Salva  festa  dies. 
So  there  were  four  quires.  Then  came  a  canopy, 
borne  by  four  of  the  masters  of  the  Clarkes  over  the 
Sacrament  with  a  twelve  staff  torches  burning,  up  St. 
Lawrence  Lane  and  so  to  the  further  end  of  Cheap, 
then  back  again  by  Cornhill,  and  so  down  to  Bishops- 
gate,  into  St.  Albrose  Church,  and  there  they  did  put 
off  their  copes,  and  so  to  dinner  every  man,  and  then 
everyone  that  bare  a  streamer  had  money,  as  they  were 
of  bigness  then."  A  very  striking  procession  it  must 
have  been,  and  those  who  often  traverse  the  familiar 
streets  of  the  City  to-day  can  picture  to  themselves  the 
clerks'  pageant  of  former  times,  which  wended  its  way 
along  the  same  accustomed  thoroughfares. 

But  times  were  changing,  and  religious  ceremonies 


THE   ORGAN   AT   THE   PARISH   CLERKS'   HALL 


THE   CLERKS   OF   LONDON  121 

changed  too.  Less  pomp  and  pageantry  characterise 
the  celebrations  of  the  clerks.  There  is  the  Evensong 
as  usual,  and  a  Communion  on  the  following  day, 
followed  by  a  dinner  and  "  a  goodly  concert  of  children 
of  Westminster,  with  viols  and  regals."  A  little  later 
we  read  that  the  clerks  marched  clad  in  their  liveries, 
gowns,  and  hoods  of  white  damask.  Copes  are  no 
longer  recognised  as  proper  vestments.  Standards, 
banners,  and  streamers  remain  locked  up  in  the  City's 
treasure-house,  and  Puritan  simplicity  is  duly  observed. 
But  the  clerks  lacked  not  feasting.  Besides  the  election 
dinner,  there  were  quarterly  dinners,  and  dinners  for 
the  wardens  and  assistants.  Time  has  wrought  some 
changes  in  the  mode  of  celebrating  election  day  and 
other  festive  occasions.  Sometimes  "  plain  living  and 
high  thinking"  were  the  watchwords  that  guided  the 
principles  of  the  company.  Processions  and  gown- 
wearing  have  long  been  discontinued,  but  in  its  essen- 
tial character  the  election  day  is  still  observed,  though 
pomp  and  pageantry  no  longer  form  important  features 
of  its  ceremonial. 

We  have  seen  that  the  parish  clerks  of  London  were 
in  great  request  on  account  of  their  musical  abilities. 
In  1610  the  masters  and  wardens  were  called  upon  to 
examine  all  those  who  wished  to  be  admitted  into  the 
honourable  company,  as  to  whether  they  could  read 
the  Psalms  of  David  according  to  the  usual  tunes  used 
in  the  parish  churches.  The  finest  singers  chanted 
Mass  in  pre-Reformation  times  in  the  Guildhall  at 
the  election  of  the  Lord  Mayor.  In  order  to  improve 
themselves  in  this  part  of  their  duties,  the  parish  clerks 
soon  after  the  Restoration  of  the  monarchy,  in  1660, 
provided  themselves  with  an  organ  in  order  to  perfect 
themselves  in  the  art  of  chanting.  The  minute  book 


122  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

of  the  company  tells  that  it  was  acquired  "the  better 
to  enable  them  to  perform  a  service  incumbent  upon 
them  before  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen  of  the  City 
on  Michaslmas  Day,  and  also  the  better  to  enable  them 
who  already  are,  or  hereafter  shall  be,  parish  clerks  of 
the  City  in  performing  their  duties  in  the  several 
parishes  to  which  they  stand  related."  Here  the  clerks 
used  to  meet  on  Tuesday  afternoons  for  a  regular 
weekly  practice  in  music,  and  for  many  years  an  organist 
was  appointed  by  the  company  to  assist  the  brethren 
in  their  cultivation  of  psalmody.  The  selection  of 
psalms  specially  suited  for  each  Sunday  in  the  year 
was  made  by  the  company  and  set  forth  in  The  Parish 
Clerks'  Guide,  in  order  that  the  special  teaching  of  the 
Sunday,  as  set  forth  in  the  Collect,  Epistle,  and  Gospel, 
might  be  duly  followed  in  the  Psalms. 

Another  important  duty  which  the  parish  clerks  of 
London,  and  also  in  some  provincial  towns,  discharged 
was  the  publishing  of  the  bills  of  mortality  for  the  City. 
This  duty  is  enjoined  in  their  charter  of  1610.  The 
corporation  required  from  them  returns  of  the  deaths  of 
freemen  in  their  respective  parishes,  and  also  returns 
of  the  number  of  deaths  and  christenings.  The  records 
of  the  City  of  London  contain  a  copy  of  the  agree- 
ment, made  in  1545-6  between  the  Lord  Mayor  and  the 
Parish  Clerks'  Company,  which  provides  that  "They 
shall  cause  all  clerks  of  the  City  to  present  to  the 
common  crier  the  name  and  surname  of  any  freeman 
that  shall  die  having  any  children  under  the  age  of 
21  years."  The  Chamberlain  was  instructed  to  pay  to 
the  company  135.  4d.  yearly  for  their  services.  The 
custody  of  all  orphans,  with  that  of  their  lands  and 
goods,  had  been  entrusted  to  the  City  by  the  charter  of 
Richard  III,  and  this  agreement  was  made  in  order  to 


London  2          Vrom  the  27  of  December  to  the  5  of  January.           ittT" 

Sr  A  LbinWoodftreet- 
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AlhilloWs  Breadftrect 

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Sc  Georje  Botolphlane— 
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Sc  Martin  Lifd*jt8—  — 
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Plaj! 

Alhillows  Great  
Alhallows  Honvlane  
Alhallows  LcfTc  
Alhallows  Lumbudfttcc 

S1  Jimcs  Dukes  place- 
s' J.imcs  Gatlickhithc— 

S1  Martin  Virtrev  
S1  Maithcw  Fridijftrcet- 
S'  Maudlin  Milkftrcet— 
S'  Maudlin  OUfilWlrect- 

i1  John  Ev.ingelift-  

Alhillows  the  Wall  
Sc  Alphsge  
S1  Andrew  Hitbbird  
S'  Andrew  Undeifhaft— 
S'  Andrew  Watdrabe  — 

S1  Katharine  Colemin-r- 
S1  Katharine  Crechurch- 
S1  Lawrence  Jewrv  
S1  Lawrence  Puunrney— 
S1  Leonard  Eaftchcip  

S1  Michael  Cornhil  
S1  Michael  Crookcdlane 
S'  Michael  Q^eenhiche- 
S'  Michael  Quern  
S'  Mkrhiel  Royal  
S'  Michael  Woodftreet- 
S'  Mildred  Breadftrect— 
S1  Mildred  Pouitrty  
Sc  Nichols  Aeons— 
Sc  Nicholas  Colcabby— 
Sr  Nicholas  OUves—  - 
S*  Oijve  Hartftrcec  
S'  Olave  Jewry  
S1  Olave  Silverftreet  
S'  Pancras  Soperlwe  — 

S'  Ann  Blackfryers-  
Se  Antholins  PariOi  
Sc  AuAins  Parifti  
S'  BirtholomewEichingc 

S'  Magnus  Patilh            ' 
S1  Margaret  Lothbury— 
Sc  Margaret  Mofes- 
Sc  Margaret  Newfifhftre. 

S1  Bennet  Gracechurch. 
Sc  Benntt  Paulfwharf-- 
S1  Bennet  Sherehog  
Sc  Botolph  BilUn|T|»tc- 

S1  Msry  Abchurch.  
S1  Mary  Aldermanbury. 
S'  Mary  Aldermary  
6r  Mary  le  Bow  

S'  Chriftcphers  
S*  Clement  Eaftcheap-— 
S1  Diom's  Backchurch-— 

S'  Mary  Colechurch.  — 
S'  Miry  Hill.  
S[  Marv  Mcitr.thawi  

Sc  Peter  Cornhil  
S'  Peter  Paulfwharf  
S'  Peter  Poor-'         »- 
S'  Steven  Colemanftreet 
S5  Steven  Walbtook— 
S'Swlthin  < 

Sc  Edmund  Lumbardftr., 
S'  Ethelbotouth- 
ft  Faith 

S'  Mary  Stayninj—  — 
S1  Mary  Woolchufch  — 

Sr  Martin  Ireoionjerlane  I 
it!  witirix  I'M  "ills            •   66 

Trinity  Parii—  —  — 
P/xjw  —  —  0 

S'  Gabriel  Fenchitrch-- 
B»riitt  in  t 

S'  Andrew  Holborn  
,S'  Bartholomew  Great  — 

'7 

6 
6 

Ptri 
16 

9 
i 

12  1 

if!  1 

V  Botolph   AUjate  • 
Sr  Boiolph  Bifrirp"|ate  — 
S'  Dunftan  Weft        '•-• 

10 

7 

2 

»!*/>- 

Saviours  South«ark  JIO 
S  Sepulchres  Paridi—  I  7 
S'  Thomas  Southward  —  |  } 

Bridewcl  PrecinS  
S'  Botolph  AJderfgate- 
Kuritd  in  tki  1  6 

Sr  Giles  Crippleja:e-—  1  3 
S'  Oijve  SouihwirV.  I  5 
ri;»«>u  liet  >ftlt.  mi  a  tin  PtjU 

At  the  Pcftiioafc         —1 
-  M6     P/«fK?-  o. 

S1  Giles  in  the  fields  — 
-hckneyParith'-       
S1  James  Cletkenwe!  — 
b'  Kath.  nut  ihc  fewer 

gltrifdixltH 

oft 

Lambeth  Parifh            — 
S'  Leonard  Shore  Inch  — 
Sc  Magdalen  Bcnnondfey 
S1  Mity  Newinjton  
rtyts  i*  Middltfei  ad  Sui 

4 
5 

4 

7 
ey— 

1 
10 

S:  Mjry  Iflir.g-.-.n—  —  —  I 
S'  Mm  WhirccV.i?pc:-l7 
Rothonth  Pirifl,.  —  — 
Stepnc;  Piriih  —          "[j  J 
r.'//»f  —   O 

S1  Clement  D-inev-  I 
S'  Ptul  Covent  Gordtr.- 
Iv'ud  n  I'tt  5 

^ 

IS"  Martin  in  the  fields—  ll  7 
Is'  Miiy  Savoy—  ——|l 
T>n<-'  rW  C'nj  1*4  l-ibtrtitltf  Wtftrri 

{  S'  Mji<>r?t  ^ctt-r.infter;^ 
)  'tfrt.'ttf  tt  ttoPeifeoiifc 
vft«,-_  45      Piii*t-  o 

-r-  • 

'   -            '                                                            J*z 

A  PACK  OF  AN  EARLY  BILL  OF  MORTALITY 

CRESEKVKI)    AT   THE    HAM.   OF   THE    1'AKISH    CI.KKKS'   COMl'ANY 


THE   CLERKS   OF   LONDON  123 

enable  the  "City  Fathers"  to  faithfully  discharge  their 
duties  in  looking  after  children  of  deceased  freemen. 
In  spite  of  many  difficulties,  especially  after  the  Great 
Fire  which  rendered  thousands  homeless  and  scattered 
the  population,  the  clerks  continued  to  perform  this 
duty,  though  not  always  to  the  satisfaction  of  their 
employers,  until  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  when  the  custom  seems  to  have  lapsed. 

The  earliest  bills  of  mortality  now  in  existence  date 
back  to  the  time  of  Henry  VIII,  when  the  clerks  were 
required  to  furnish  information  with  regard  to  the 
deaths  caused  by  plague,  as  well  as  those  resulting 
from  other  causes.  The  returns  of  the  victims  of 
plague  are  occasionally  very  large.  In  1562,  20,372 
persons  died,  of  which  number  17,404  died  from  the 
plague.  The  burial  grounds  of  the  City  became  terribly 
overcrowded,  and  the  parish  clerks  were  ordered  to 
report  upon  the  space  available  in  the  City  churchyards. 
They  also  were  appointed  to  see  to  "the  shutting  up 
of  infected  houses  and  putting  papers  on  the  doors." 

An  early  "Bill  of  Mortality"  is  preserved  at  the 
Hall.  It  tells  of  "the  Number  of  those  who  dyed  in 
the  Citie  of  London  and  Liberties  of  the  same  from  the 
28th  of  December  1581  to  the  17th  of  December  1582, 
with  the  Christenings.  And  also  the  number  of  all 
those  who  have  died  of  the  plague  in  every  parish 
particularly.  Blessed  are  the  Dead."  There  is  also 
preserved  a  number  of  the  weekly  bills  of  mortality. 
Referring  to  the  year  of  the  Great  Plague,  1665,  these 
documents  show  that  at  the  beginning  of  the  pestilence 
in  April,  during  one  week  only  fifty-seven  persons  died ; 
whereas  in  September  the  death-roll  had  reached  the 
enormous  number  of  6544. 

The  company  seems  to  have  been  a  useful  agency  for 


124  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

carrying  out  all  kinds  of  duties  connected  with  gather- 
ing the  statistics  of  mortality,  nor  do  they  seem  to  have 
been  overpaid  for  their  trouble.  In  the  early  years  of 
the  seventeenth  century  £3.  6s.  8d.  was  all  that  they 
received.  In  1607  the  sum  was  increased  to  ,£8,  inas- 
much as  they  were  ordered  to  furnish  a  bill  to  the 
Queen  and  the  Lord  Chancellor  as  well  as  to  the  King. 
Some  clerks  endeavoured  to  make  illicit  gains  by 
supplying  the  public  with  "  false  and  untrue  bills,"  or 
distributing  some  bills  for  each  week  before  they  had 
been  sent  to  the  Lord  Mayor ;  and  any  brother  who 
"  by  any  cunning  device  gave  away,  dispersed, 
uttered,  or  declared,  or  by  sinister  device  cast  forth 
at  any  window,  hole,  or  crevice  of  a  wall  any  bills  or 
notes"  before  the  due  returns  had  been  sent  to  the 
Lord  Mayor,  was  ordered  to  pay  a  fine  of  ics.  and 
other  divers  penalties. 

The  methods  of  making  out  these  returns  are  very 
curious,  and  did  not  conduce  to  infallible  accuracy. 
In  each  parish  there  were  persons  called  searchers, 
ancient  women  who  were  informed  by  the  sexton  of  a 
death,  and  whose  duty  it  was  to  visit  the  deceased  and 
state  the  cause  of  death.  They  had  no  medical  know- 
ledge, and  therefore  their  diagnosis  could  only  have 
been  very  conjectural.  This  they  reported  to  the 
parish  clerk.  The  clerk  made  out  his  bill  for  the  week, 
took  it  to  the  Hall  of  the  company,  and  deposited  it  in 
a  box  on  the  staircase.  All  the  returns  were  then 
tabulated,  arranged,  and  printed,  and  when  copies  had 
been  sent  to  the  authorities,  others  were  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  clerks  for  sale. 

The  system  was  all  very  excellent  and  satisfactory, 
but  its  carrying  out  was  defective.  Negligent  clerks  did 
not  send  their  returns  in  spite  of  admonition,  caution, 


THE   CLERKS   OF   LONDON  125 

fine,  or  brotherly  persuasion.  The  searchers'  informa- 
tion was  usually  unreliable.  Complications  arose  on 
account  of  the  Act  of  the  Commonwealth  Parliament 
requiring  the  registration  of  births  instead  of  baptisms, 
of  civil  marriages,  and  banns  published  in  the  market 
place  ;  also  on  account  of  the  vast  mortality  caused  by 
the  Great  Plague,  the  burials  in  the  large  common  pits 
and  public  burial  grounds,  and  the  opposition  of  the 
Quakers  to  inspection  and  registration.  All  these 
causes  contributed  to  the  issuing  of  unreliable  returns. 
The  company  did  their  best  to  grapple  with  all  these 
difficulties.  They  did  not  escape  censure,  and  were 
blamed  on  account  of  the  faults  of  individual  clerks. 
The  contest  went  on  for  years,  and  was  only  finally 
settled  in  1859,  when  the  last  bills  of  mortality  were 
issued,  and  the  Public  Registration  Act  rendered  the 
work  of  the  clerks,  which  they  had  carried  on  for  three 
centuries  to  the  best  of  their  skill  and  ability,  unneces- 
sary. In  the  Guildhall  Library  are  preserved  a  large 
number  of  the  volumes  of  these  bills  which  the  industry 
of  the  clerks  of  London  had  issued  with  so  much  perse- 
verance and  energy  under  difficult  circumstances,  and 
they  form  a  valuable  and  interesting  collection  of  docu- 
ments illustrative  of  the  old  life  of  the  City. 

One  happy  result  of  the  duty  laid  upon  the  clerks  of 
issuing  bills  of  mortality  in  the  City  of  London  was 
that  they  were  allowed  to  set  up  a  printing  press  in  the 
Hall  of  their  company.  The  licence  for  this  press  was 
obtained  in  1625,  and  in  the  following  year  it  was  duly 
established  with  the  consent  of  the  authorities.  It  was 
no  easy  task  in  the  early  Stuart  times  to  obtain  leave  to 
have  a  printing  press,  and  severe  were  the  restrictions 
laid  down,  and  the  penalties  for  any  violation  of  any  of 
them.  The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the  Bishop 


126  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

of  London  had  mighty  powers  over  the  Press,  and  the 
clerks  could  not  choose  their  printer  save  with  the 
approval  of  these  ecclesiastical  dignitaries. 

Very  strict  regulations  were  laid  down  by  the  com- 
pany in  order  to  prevent  any  improper  use  being  made 
of  the  productions  of  their  press.  The  door  of  the 
chamber  containing  their  printing  machine  was  pro- 
vided with  three  locks  ;  the  key  of  the  upper  lock  was 
placed  in  the  charge  of  the  upper  master,  that  of  the 
middle  lock  was  in  the  custody  of  the  upper  warden, 
while  the  key  of  the  lower  lock  was  kept  by  the  under 
warden.  They  appointed  one  Richard  Hodgkinson  as 
their  printer  in  1630,  with  whom  they  had  much  dis- 
puting. Six  years  later  one  of  their  own  company, 
Thomas  Cotes,  parish  clerk  of  Cripplegate  Without, 
was  chosen  to  succeed  him.  Richard  Cotes  followed  in 
1641,  and  then  a  female  printer  carried  on  the  work, 
Mrs.  Ellinor  Cotes,  probably  the  widow  of  Richard. 

The  Great  Fire  caused  the  destruction  of  the  clerks' 
press  ;  but  a  few  years  later  a  prominent  member  of 
the  company,  whose  portrait  we  see  in  the  Hall, 
Mr.  John  Clarke,  procured  for  them  another  press 
with  type,  and  Andrew  Clarke  was  appointed  printer. 
He  was  succeeded  by  Benjamin  Motte,  whose  widow 
carried  on  the  work  after  his  death.  An  intruding 
printer,  appointed  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
and  the  Bishop  of  London  without  the  consent  of 
the  company,  one  Humphreys,  made  his  appearance, 
much  to  the  displeasure  of  the  clerks,  who  objected 
to  be  dictated  to  with  regard  to  the  choice  of  their  own 
official.  Litigation  ensued,  but  in  the  end  Humphreys 
was  appointed.  He  was  not  a  satisfactory  printer, 
and  was  careless  and  neglectful.  The  clerks  repri- 
manded him  and  he  promised  amendment,  but  his 


THE   CLERKS   OF   LONDON  127 

errors  continued,  and  after  a  petition  was  presented 
to  the  Archbishop  and  the  Bishop  of  London  by  the 
company,  he  was  compelled  to  resign. 

The  increase  of  newspapers  and  the  publication  of 
the  bills  of  mortality  in  their  sheets  taken  from  the 
records  of  the  clerks  materially  affected  the  sale  of  the 
company's  issue  of  the  same,  and  efforts  were  made 
in  Parliament  to  obtain  a  monopoly  for  the  com- 
pany. This  action  was  costly,  and  no  benefit  was 
derived.  After  the  removal  of  the  unsatisfactory 
Humphreys  the  printing  of  the  company  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  Rivingtons,  a  name  honoured  amongst 
printers  and  publishers  for  many  generations.  Mr. 
Charles  Rivington  was  printer  for  the  clerks  in  1787, 
his  brother  being  a  bookseller  in  St.  Paul's  Church- 
yard, to  whose  son's  widow,  Mrs.  Anne  Rivington, 
the  office  passed  in  1790.  The  printing  of  the  bills  of 
mortality  was  carried  on  by  the  company  until  1850, 
having  been  conducted  by  the  Rivington  family  for 
over  sixty  years.1 

In  addition  to  their  statistical  returns,  the  Company 
of  Parish  Clerks  are  responsible  for  some  other  and 
more  important  works  which  reflect  great  credit  upon 
them.  Foremost  among  them  is  a  book  entitled  : 

"  New  Remarks  of  London  ;  or,  a  Survey  of  the 
Cities  of  London  and  Westminster,  of  Southwark  and 
part  of  Middlesex  and  Surrey  within  the  circumference 
of  the  Bills  of  Mortality."  It  contains  "an  account 
of  the  situation,  antiquity,  and  rebuilding  of  each 
church,  the  value  of  the  Rectory  or  Vicarage,  in 
whose  gifts  they  are,  and  the  names  of  the  present  in- 
cumbents or  lecturers.  Of  the  several  vestries,  Hours 

1  I  am  indebted  for  this  list  of  printers  to  Mr.  James  Christie's  Some 
Account  of  Parish  Clerks, 


i28  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

of  Prayer,  Parish  and  Ward  Officers,  Charity  and 
other  schools,  the  number  of  Charity  Children,  how 
maintained,  educated  and  placed  out  apprentices,  or 
put  to  service.  Of  the  Almshouses,  Workhouses  and 
Hospitals.  The  remarkable  Places  and  Things  in 
each  Parish,  with  the  limits  or  Bounds,  Streets,  Lanes, 
Courts,  and  numbers  of  Houses.  An  alphabetical 
table  of  all  the  Streets,  Courts,  Lanes,  Alleys,  Yards, 
Rows,  Rents,  Squares,  etc.  within  the  Bills  of  Mor- 
tality, shewing  in  which  Liberty  or  Freedom  they 
are,  and  an  easy  method  of  finding  them.  Of  the 
several  Inns  of  Court,  and  Inns  of  Chancery,  with 
their  several  Buildings,  Courts,  Lanes,  etc. 

"Collected  by  the  Company  of  Parish-Clerks  to 
which  is  added  the  Places  to  which  Penny  Post  Letters 
are  sent,  with  proper  Directions  therein.  The  Wharfs, 
Keys,  Docks,  etc.  near  the  River  Thames,  of  water- 
carriage  to  several  Cities,  Towns,  etc.  The  Rates  of 
Watermen,  Porters  of  all  kinds  and  Carmen.  To 
what  Inns  Stage  Coaches,  Flying  Coaches,  Waggons 
and  Carriers  come,  and  the  days  they  go  out.  The 
whole  being  very  useful  for  Ladies,  Gentlemen,  Clergy- 
men, Merchants,  Tradesmen,  Coachmen,  Chair-men, 
Car-men,  Porters,  Bailiffs  and  others. 

"  London,  Printed  for  E.  Midwinter  at  the 

Looking  Glass  and  three  Crowns  in  S*  Paul's 

Churchyard  MDCCXXXII." 

This  is  a  wonderfully  interesting  little  book.  Each 
clerk  compiled  the  information  for  his  own  parish  and 
appended  his  name.  Most  carefully  is  the  information 
contained  in  the  book  arranged,  and  the  volume  is  a 
most  creditable  production  of  the  worshipful  company. 


PORTRAIT   OF  JOHN   CLARKE,    PARISH   CLERK  OF  THE   CHURCH 
OF  ST.   MICHAEL,  CORNHILL 


THE   CLERKS   OF   LONDON  129 

Amongst  the  books  preserved  in  the  Hall  is  another 
volume,  entitled  "London  Parishes;  containing  an 
account  of  the  Rise,  Corruption,  and  Reformation  of 
the  Church  of  England."  This  was  published  by  the 
parish  clerks  in  1824. 


CHAPTER  X 
CLERKENWELL   AND   CLERKS'    PLAYS 

T)ARISH  clerks  are  immortalised  by  having  given 
1  their  name  to  an  important  part  of  London. 
Clerkenwell  is  thefons  clericorum  of  the  old  chronicler, 
Fitz-Stephen.  It  is  the  Clerks'  Well,  the  syllable  en 
being  the  form  of  the  old  Saxon  plural.  Fitz-Stephen 
wrote  in  the  time  of  King  Stephen  :  "  There  are  also 
round  London  on  the  northern  side,  in  the  suburbs, 
excellent  springs,  the  water  of  which  is  sweet,  clear, 
salubrious,  'mid  glistening  pebbles  gliding  playfully  ; 
amongst  which  Holywell,  Clerkenwell,  (fons  cleri- 
corum),  and  St.  Clement's  Well  are  of  most  note,  and 
most  frequently  visited,  as  well  by  the  scholars  from 
the  schools  as  by  the  youth  of  the  City  when  they  go 
out  to  take  air  in  the  summer  evenings." 

It  was  then,  and  for  centuries  later,  a  rural  spot,  not 
far  from  the  City,  just  beyond  Smithfield,  a  place  of 
green  sward  and  gently  sloping  ground,  watered  by 
a  pleasant  stream,  far  different  from  the  crowded  streets 
of  the  modern  Clerkenwell.  It  was  a  spot  famous  for 
athletic  contests,  for  wrestling  bouts  and  archery,  and 
hither  came  the  Lord  Mayor,  sheriffs,  and  aldermen  at 
Bartholomew  Fair  time  to  witness  the  sports,  and 
especially  the  wrestling. 

But  that  which  gave  to  the  place  its  name  and  chief 

130 


CLERKENWELL  AND  CLERKS'  PLAYS   131 

glory  was  the  fact  that  once  a  year  at  least  the  parish 
clerks  of  London  came  here  to  perform  their  mystery 
plays  and  moralities.  "Their  profession,"  wrote 
Warton,1  "  employment  and  character,  naturally  dic- 
tated to  this  spiritual  brotherhood  the  representation 
of  plays,  especially  those  of  the  scriptural  kind,  and 
their  constant  practice  in  shows,  processions,  and  vocal 
music  easily  accounts  for  their  address  in  detaining  the 
best  company  which  England  afforded  in  the  four- 
teenth century  at  a  religious  farce  for  more  than  a 
week."  These  plays  were  no  ordinary  performances, 
no  afternoon  or  evening  entertainment,  but  a  pro- 
tracted drama  lasting  from  three  to  eight  days.  In 
the  reign  of  Richard  II,  A.D.  1391,  the  clerks  were 
acting  before  the  King,  his  Queen,  and  many  nobles. 
The  performances  continued  for  three  days,  and  the 
representations  were  the  "  Passion  of  Our  Lord  and 
the  Creation  of  the  World,"  which  so  well  pleased  the 
King  that  he  commanded  £10,  a  very  considerable  sum 
of  money  in  those  days,  to  be  paid  to  the  clerks  of  the 
parish  churches  and  to  divers  other  clerks  of  the  City 
of  London.  Here  is  the  record  of  his  gift : 

"Issue  Roll,  Easter,  14  Ric.  II. 

"  ii  July.  To  the  clerks  of  the  parish  churches  and  to 
divers  other  clerks  of  the  city  of  London.  In  money  paid 
to  them  in  discharge  of  ;£io  which  the  Lord  the  King-  com- 
manded to  be  paid  to  them  of  his  gift  on  account  of  the 
play  of  the  '  Passion  of  Our  Lord  and  the  Creation  of  the 
World '  by  them  performed  at  Skynnerwell  after  the  feast  of 
St.  Bartholomew  last  past.  By  writ  of  Privy  Seal  amongst 
the  mandates  of  this  term — ;£io." 

Skinners'  Well  was  close  to  the  Clerks'  Well,  and  it 
was  so  called,  so  Stow  informs  us,  "for  that  the 

1  English  Poetry,  vol.  ii.  p.  397. 


132  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Skinners  of  London  held  there  certain  plays  yearly  of 
Holy  Scripture." 

A  few  years  later,  in  the  succeeding  reign,  10  Henry 
IV,  A.D.  1409,  the  fraternity  of  clerks  were  again 
performing  at  the  same  place.  Stow  says:  "  In  the 
year  1409  was  a  great  play  at  Skynners'  Welle,  neere 
unto  Clarkenwell,  besides  London,  which  lasted  eight 
daies,  and  was  of  matter  from  the  creation  of  the 
world  ;  there  were  to  see  the  same  the  most  part  of 
the  nobles  and  gentles  in  England " — a  mighty 
audience  truly,  which  not  even  Sir  Henry  Irving  could 
command  in  his  farewell  performances  at  Drury  Lane. 

These  religious  plays  or  mysteries  were  a  powerful 
means  for  instructing  the  people  ;  and  if  we  had  lived 
in  mediaeval  times,  we  should  not  have  needed  to  fly  to 
Ober-Ammergau  in  order  to  witness  a  Passion  Play. 
In  the  streets  of  Coventry  or  Chester,  York,  or  Tewkes- 
bury,  Witney,  or  Reading,  or  on  the  Green  at 
Clerkenwell,  we  could  have  seen  the  appealing  spec- 
tacle ;  and  though  sometimes  the  actors  lapsed  into 
buffoonery,  and  the  red  demons  carrying  souls  to  hell's 
mouth  created  merriment  rather  than  terror,  and  though 
realism  was  carried  to  such  a  pitch  that  Adam  and  Eve 
appeared  in  a  state  of  nature,  yet  many  of  the  spec- 
tators would  carry  away  with  them  pious  thoughts  and 
some  grasp  of  the  facts  of  Scripture  history,  and  of 
the  mysteries  of  the  faith.  Originally  the  plays  were 
performed  in  churches,  but  owing  to  the  gradually 
increased  size  of  the  stage  and  the  more  elaborate 
stage  effects,  the  sacred  buildings  were  abandoned  as 
the  scenes  of  mediaeval  drama.  Then  the  churchyard 
was  utilised  for  the  purpose.  The  clergy  no  longer 
took  part  in  the  pageants,  and  in  the  fourteenth  and 
fifteenth  centuries  the  people  liked  to  act  their  plays  in 


CLERKENWELL  AND  CLERKS'  PLAYS   133 

the  highways  and  public  places  as  at  Clerkenwell. 
The  guilds  and  fraternities  in  many  places  provided 
the  chief  actors,  and  in  towns  where  there  were  many 
guilds  and  companies,  each  company  performed  part 
of  the  great  drama,  the  movable  stage  being  drawn 
about  from  street  to  street.  Thus  at  York  the  story 
of  the  Creation  and  the  Redemption  was  divided  into 
forty-eight  parts,  each  part  being  acted  by  a  guild, 
or  group  of  companies.  The  Tanners  represented  God 
the  Father  creating  the  heavens,  angels  and  arch- 
angels, and  the  fall  of  Lucifer  and  the  disobedient 
angels.  Then  the  Plasterers  showed  the  Creation  of  the 
Earth,  and  the  work  of  the  first  five  [days.  The  Card- 
makers  exhibited  the  Creation  of  Adam  of  the  clay  of  the 
earth,  and  the  making  of  Eve  of  Adam's  rib,  thus  inspir- 
ing them  with  the  breath  of  life.  The  Fall,  the  story  of 
Cain  and  Abel,  of  Noah  and  the  Flood,  of  Moses,  the 
Annunciation  and  all  Gospel  history,  ending  with  the 
Coronation  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Final  Judgment. 

The  stage  upon  which  the  clerks  performed  their 
plays,  according  to  Strutt,  consisted  of  three  platforms, 
one  above  another.  On  the  uppermost  sat  God  the 
Father  surrounded  by  His  angels.  He  was  repre- 
sented in  a  white  robe,  and  until  it  was  discovered  how 
injurious  the  process  was,  the  actor  who  played  the  part 
used  to  have  his  face  gilded.  On  the  second  platform 
were  the  glorified  saints,  and  on  the  lowest  men  who 
had  not  yet  passed  from  life.  On  one  side  of  the 
lowest  platform  was  hell's  mouth,  a  dark  pitchy 
cavern,  whence  issued  the  appearance  of  fire  and 
flames,  and  sometimes  hideous  yellings  and  noises  in 
imitation  of  the  howlings  and  cries  of  wretched 
souls  tormented  by  relentless  demons.  From  this 
yawning  cave  the  devils  constantly  ascended  to  delight 


134  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

the  spectators  and  afford  comic  relief  to  the  more 
serious  drama.  The  three  stages  were  not  always 
used.  Archdeacon  Rogers,  who  died  in  1595,  left  an 
account  of  the  Chester  play  which  he  himself  saw,  and 
he  wrote  that  the  stage  was  a  high  scaffold  with  two 
rooms,  a  higher  and  a  lower,  upon  four  wheels.  In 
the  lower  the  actors  apparelled  themselves,  and  in  the 
higher  they  played.  But  this  was  a  movable  stage  on 
wheels.  The  clerks'  stage  would,  doubtless,  be  a 
fixed  structure,  and  of  a  more  elaborate  construction. 

The  dresses  used  by  the  actors  were  very  gorgeous 
and  splendid,  though  little  care  was  bestowed  upon  the 
appropriateness  of  the  costumes.  The  words  of  the 
play  of  the  Creation  differ  in  the  various  versions 
which  have  come  down  to  us.  Strutt  thinks  that  the 
clerks'  play,  acted  before  "the  most  part  of  the  nobles 
and  gentles  in  England,"  was  very  similar  to  the 
Coventry  play,  which  cannot  compare  in  grandeur  and 
vigour  with  the  York  play  discovered  in  the  library  of 
Lord  Ashburnham,  and  edited  by  Miss  Toulmin 
Smith.1  But  as  the  north-country  dialect  of  the  York 
version  would  have  been  difficult  for  the  learned  clerks 
of  London  to  pronounce,  their  version  would  doubtless 
resemble  more  that  of  Coventry  than  that  of  York. 
The  first  act  represents  the  Deity  seated  upon  His 
throne  and  speaking  as  follows  : 

"  Ego  sum  Alpha  et  Omega,  principium  et  finis. 
My  name  is  knowyn,  God  and  Kyng-e ; 

My  work  to  make  now  wyl  I  wende  ; 
In  myselfe  resteth  my  reynenge, 

It  hath  no  gynnyng,  ne  no  ende, 
And  all  that  evyr  shall  have  beynge 

Is  closed  in  my  mende  ;2 
When  it  is  made  at  my  lykynge 

I  may  it  save,  I  may  it  shende3 
After  my  plesawns."  4 

1  Clarendon  Press,  Oxford,  1885.     A  portion  of  this  is  published  in 
Mr.  A.  W.  Pollard's  English  Miracle  Plays. 

2  Mind.  3  Destroy.  4  Pleasure. 


CLERKENWELL  AND  CLERKS'  PLAYS   135 

At  the  close  of  this  oration,  which  consists  of  forty 
lines,  the  angels  enter  upon  the  upper  stage,  surround 
the  throne  of  the  Deity,  and  sing  from  the  Te  Deum: 

Te  Deum  laudamus,  te  dominum  confitemur. 

The  Father  bestows  much  honour  and  brightness  on 
Lucifer,  who  is  full  of  pride.  He  demands  of  the 
good  angels  in  whose  honour  they  are  singing  their 
songs  of  praise.  Are  they  worshipping  God  or  rever- 
encing him?  They  reply  that  they  are  worshipping 
God,  the  mighty  and  most  strong,  who  made  them 
and  Lucifer.  Then  Lucifer  daringly  usurps  the  seat 
of  the  Almighty,  and  receives  the  homage  of  the 
rebellious  angels.  Then  the  Father  orders  them  and 
their  leader  to  fall  from  heaven  to  hell,  and  in  His 
bliss  never  more  to  dwell.  Then  does  Lucifer  reply  : 

"  At  thy  byddyng  y  wyl  I  werke, 
And  pass  from  joy  to  peyne  and  smerte. 
Now  I  am  a  devyl  full  derke, 
That  was  an  angel  bryght. 
Now  to  Helle  the  way  I  take, 
In  endless  peyn  y  to  be  put ; 
For  fere  of  fyr  apart  I  quake 
In  Helle  dongeon  my  dene  is  dyth." 

Then  the  Devil  and  his  angels  sink  into  the  cavern 
of  hell's  mouth. 

We  cannot  follow  all  the  scenes  in  this  strange 
drama.  The  final  representation  included  the  Descent 
into  Hell,  or  the  Harrowing  of  Hell,  as  it  was  called, 
when  the  soul  of  Christ  goes  down  into  the  infernal 
regions  and  rescues  Adam  and  Eve,  Abraham,  Moses, 
and  the  saints  of  old.  The  Anima  Christi  says  : 

"Come  forth,  Adam  and  Eve,  with  the, 
And  all  my  fryends  that  herein  be  ; 
In  Paradyse  come  forth  with  me, 

In  blysse  for  to  dwell. 
The  fende  of  hell  that  is  your  foe, 
He  shall  be  wrappyd  and  woundyn  in  woo  ; 
Fro  wo  to  welth  now  shall  ye  go, 

With  myrth  ever  mo  to  melle." 


136  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Adam  replies : 

"  I  thank  the  Lord  of  thy  grete  grace, 
That  now  is  forgiven  my  great  trespase  ; 
No  shall  we  dwell  in  blyssful  place." 

The  accompanying  print  of  the  Descent  into  Hell 
was  engraved  by  Michael  Burghers  from  an  ancient 
drawing  for  our  Berkshire  antiquary,  Thomas  Herne. 

Modern  buildings  have  obliterated  the  scene  of  this 
ancient  drama  acted  by  the  clerks  of  London,  but 
some  traces  of  the  association  of  the  fraternity  with 
the  neighbourhood  can  still  be  found.  The  two  famous 
conventual  houses,  for  which  Clerkenwell  was  famous, 
the  nunnery  of  St.  Mary  and  the  priory  of  St.  John 
of  Jerusalem,  founded  in  noo,  have  long  since  dis- 
appeared. Clerks'  Close  is  mentioned  in  numerous 
documents,  and  formed  part  of  the  estate  belonging 
to  the  Skinners'  Company,  where  Skinner  Street  now 
runs.  Clerks'  Well  was  close  to  the  modern  church  of 
St.  James's,  Clerkenwell,  which  occupies  the  site  of 
the  church  and  nunnery  of  St.  Mary  de  fonte  clericorum, 
which  once  possessed  one  of  the  six  water-pots  in 
which  Jesus  turned  the  water  into  wine.  Vine  Street 
formerly  delighted  in  the  name  Mutton  Lane,  which  is 
said  to  be  a  corruption  of  meeting  or  moteing  lane, 
referring  to  the  clerks'  mote  or  meeting  place  by  the 
well.  When  Mr.  Pink  wrote  his  history  of  Clerken- 
well forty  years  ago,  there  was  at  the  east  side  of  Ray 
Street  a  broken  iron  pump  let  into  the  front  wall  of  a 
dilapidated  house  which  showed  the  site  of  Clerks' 
Well.  In  1673  the  spring  and  plot  of  ground  were 
given  by  the  Earl  of  Northampton  to  the  poor  of  the 
parish,  but  the  vestry  leased  the  spring  to  a  brewer. 
Strype,  writing  in  1720,  states  that  "the  old  well  at 
Clerkenwell,  whence  the  parish  had  its  name,  is  still 


CLERKENWELL  AND  CLERKS'  PLAYS   137 

known  among  the  inhabitants.  It  is  on  the  right  hand 
of  a  lane  that  leads  from  Clerkenwell  to  Hockley-in- 
the-Hole,  in  a  bottom.  One  Mr.  Crosse,  a  brewer, 
hath  this  well  enclosed  ;  but  the  water  runs  from  him, 
by  means  of  a  watercourse  above-mentioned,  into  the 
said  place.  It  is  enclosed  with  a  high  wall,  which  was 
formerly  built  to  bound  in  Clerkenwell  Close ;  the 
present  well  (the  conduit  head)  being  also  enclosed  by 
another  lower  wall  from  the  street.  The  way  to  it 
is  through  a  little  house,  which  was  the  watch-house. 
You  go  down  a  good  many  steps  to  it.  The  well  had 
formerly  ironwork  and  brass  cocks,  which  are  now  cut 
off;  the  water  spins  through  the  old  wall.  I  was 
there  and  tasted  the  water,  and  found  it  excellently 
clear,  sweet,  and  well  tasted." 

In  1800  a  pump  was  erected  on  the  east  side  of  Ray 
Street  to  celebrate  the  parish  clerks'  ancient  perform- 
ances, which  were  immortalised  in  raised  letters  of 
iron  with  this  inscription  : 

A.D.  1800.  William  Bound,  Joseph  Bird,  Church- 
wardens. For  the  better  accommodation  of  the  neighbour- 
hood, this  pump  was  removed  to  the  spot  where  it  now 
stands.  The  spring  by  which  it  is  supplied  is  situated  four 
feet  eastward,  and  round  it,  as  history  informs  us,  the  Parish 
Clerks  of  London  in  remote  ages  commonly  performed  sacred 
plays.  That  custom  caused  it  to  be  denominated  Clerks'- 
Well,  and  from  which  this  parish  derived  its  name.  The 
water  was  greatly  esteemed  by  the  Prior  and  Brethren  of 
the  Order  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Benedictine  Nuns 
in  the  neighbourhood. 

Hone,  in  his  Ancient  Mysteries,  describes  this  pump, 
which  in  his  day,  A.D.  1832,  stood  between  an  earthen- 
ware shop  and  the  abode  of  a  bird-seller,  and  states 
that  the  monument  denoting  the  histrionic  fame  of  the 


138  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

place,  and  alluding  to  the  miraculous  powers  of  the 
water  for  healing  incurable  diseases,  remains  unob- 
served beneath  its  living  attractions.  "  The  present 
simplicity  of  the  scene  powerfully  contrasts  with  the 
recollection  of  its  former  splendour.  The  choral  chant 
of  the  Benedictine  Nuns,  accompanying  the  peal  of  the 
deep-toned  organ  through  their  cloisters,  and  the 
frankincense  curling  its  perfume  from  priestly  censers 
at  the  altar,  are  succeeded  by  the  stunning  sounds  of 
numerous  quickly  plied  hammers,  and  the  smith's 
bellows  flashing  the  fires  of  Mr.  Bound's  ironfoundry, 
erected  upon  the  unrecognised  site  of  the  convent. 
The  religious  house  stood  about  half-way  down  the 
declivity  of  the  hill,  which  commencing  near  the 
church  on  Clerkenwell  Green,  terminates  at  the  River 
Fleet.  The  prospect  then  was  uninterrupted  by  houses, 
and  the  people  upon  the  rising  ground  could  have  had 
an  uninterrupted  view  of  the  performances  at  the  well." 
In  the  parish  there  is  a  vineyard  walk,  which  marks 
the  site  of  the  old  vineyard  attached  to  the  priory  of 
St.  John.  The  cultivation  of  the  vine  was  carried  on  in 
many  monasteries.  In  1859,  in  front  of  the  old  Vine- 
yard Inn,  a  signboard  was  set  up  which  stated  that 
"This  house  is  celebrated  from  old  associations  con- 
nected with  the  City  of  London.  After  the  City  clerks 
partook  of  the  water  of  Clerks'  Well,  from  which  the 
parish  derives  its  name,  they  repaired  hither  to  partake 
of  the  fruit  of  the  finest  English  grapes."  This  was  an 
ingenious  contrivance  on  the  part  of  the  landlord  to 
solicit  custom.  It  need  hardly  be  stated  that  the  infor- 
mation given  on  this  signboard  was  incorrect.  Before 
the  Reformation  there  were  few  inns,  and  the  old 
Vineyard  Inn  can  scarcely  claim  such  a  remote 
ancestry. 


CLERKENWELL  AND  CLERKS'  PLAYS   139 

When  miracle  plays  ceased  to  be  performed  the 
clerks  did  not  desert  their  old  quarters.  It  is,  indeed, 
stated  that  the  ancient  society  of  parish  clerks  became 
divided  ;  some  turned  their  attention  to  wrestling  and 
mimicry  at  Bartholomew  Fair,  whilst  others,  for  their 
better  administration,  formed  themselves  into  the 
Society  of  the  Mayor,  Aldermen,  and  Recorder  of 
Stroud  Green,  assembling  in  the  Old  Crown  at  Isling- 
ton ;  but  still  "  saving  their  right  to  exhibit  at  the  Old 
London  Spaw,  formerly  Clerks'  Well,  when  they  might 
happen  to  have  learned  sheriffs  and  other  officers  to  get 
up  their  sacred  pieces  as  usual."  Even  so  late  as  1774 
the  members  of  this  ancient  society  were  accustomed  to 
meet  annually  in  the  summer  time  at  Stroud  Green, 
and  to  regale  themselves  in  the  open  air,  the  number 
of  persons  assembling  on  some  occasions  producing  a 
scene  similar  to  that  of  a  country  wake  or  fair.  These 
assemblies  had  no  connection  with  the  Worshipful 
Company  of  Parish  Clerks. 


CHAPTER   XI 
THE   CLERKS   AND   THE   PARISH    REGISTERS 

A  STUDY  of  an  old  parish  register  reveals  a 
ji\.  remarkable  variation  in  the  style  and  character 
of  the  handwriting.  We  see  in  the  old  parchment 
pages  numerous  entries  recorded  in  a  careless  scribble, 
and  others  evidently  written  by  the  hand  of  a  learned 
and  careful  scholar.  The  rector  or  vicar  ever  since  the 
days  of  Henry  VIII,  when  in  1536  Vicar-General 
Thomas  Cromwell  ordered  the  keeping  of  registers, 
was  usually  supposed  to  have  recorded  the  entries  in 
the  register.  Cromwell  derived  the  notion  of  ordering 
the  keeping  of  the  registers  from  his  observation  of 
the  records  kept  by  the  Spanish  priests  in  the  Low 
Countries  where  he  resided  in  his  youth.  Archbishop 
Ximenes  of  Toledo  instituted  a  system  of  registration 
in  Spain  in  1497,  and  this  was  carried  on  by  the 
Spanish  priests  in  the  Netherlands,  and  thus  laid  the 
foundation  of  that  system  which  Thomas  Cromwell 
introduced  to  this  country  and  which  has  continued 
ever  since. 

But  not  all  these  entries  were  made  by  the  in- 
cumbents. There  is  good  evidence  that  the  parish 
clerks  not  infrequently  kept  the  registers,  especially 
in  later  times,  and  from  the  beginning  they  were 
responsible  for  the  facts  recorded.  The  entries  do  not 

140 


THE   CLERKS   AND  PARISH   REGISTERS      141 

seem  to  have  been  made  when  the  baptism,  marriage, 
or  burial  took  place.  Cromwell's  edict  required  that 
the  records  of  each  week  should  be  entered  in  the 
register  on  the  following  Sunday,  in  the  presence  of 
the  churchwardens.  It  seems  to  have  been  the  custom 
for  the  clerk  or  vicar  to  write  down  particulars  of  the 
baptism,  marriage,  or  burial  in  a  private  memorandum 
book  or  on  loose  sheets  of  paper  at  the  time  of  the 
ceremony.  Afterwards  these  rough  notes  were  copied 
into  the  register  book.  Sometimes  this  was  done  each 
week  ;  but  human  nature  is  fallible ;  the  clerk  or  his 
master  forgot  sometimes  to  make  the  required  entries 
in  the  book.  Days  and  weeks  slipped  by  ;  note-books 
and  scraps  of  paper  were  mislaid  and  lost ;  the  spelling 
of  the  clerk  was  not  always  his  strongest  point ;  hence 
mistakes,  omissions,  inaccuracies  were  not  infrequent. 
Sometimes  the  vicar  did  not  make  up  his  books  until 
a  whole  year  had  elapsed.  This  was  the  case  with  the 
poor  parson  of  Carshalton,  who  was  terribly  distressed 
because  his  clerk  would  not  furnish  him  with  the 
necessary  notes,  and  mightily  afraid  lest  he  should 
incur  the  censure  of  his  parishioners.  Hence  we  find 
the  following  note  in  his  register,  dated  10  March, 
1651  : 

"  Good  reader,  tread  gently  : 

"For  though  these  vacant  years  may  seem  to  make  me 
guilty  of  thy  censure,  neither  will  I  excuse  myself  from  all 
blemishe  ;  yet  if  thou  doe  but  cast  thine  eye  upon  the  former 
pages  and  see  with  what  care  I  have  kept  the  Annalls  of 
mine  owne  time,  and  rectifyed  sundry  errors  of  former 
times,  thou  wilt  begin  to  think  ther  is  some  reason  why 
he  that  began  to  build  so  well  should  not  be  able  to  make 
an  ende. 

"The  truth  is  that  besyde  the  miserys  and  distractions  of 


142  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

these  ptermitted  years  which  it  may  be  God  in  his  owne 
wisdom  would  not  suffer  to  be  kept  uppon  record,  the 
special  ground  of  that  permission  ought  to  be  imputed  to 
Richard  Finch,  the  p'rishe  Clarke,  whose  office  it  was  by 
long  pscrition  to  gather  the  ephemeris  or  dyary  by  the  dayly 
passages,  and  to  exhibit  them  once  a  year  to  be  transcribed 
into  this  registry  ;  and  though  I  have  often  called  upon  him 
agayne  and  agayne  to  remember  his  chadge,  and  he  always 
told  me  that  he  had  the  accompts  lying  by  him,  yet  at  last 
p'ceaving  his  excuses,  and  revolving  upon  suspicion  of  his 
words  to  put  him  home  to  a  full  tryall  I  found  to  my  great 
griefe  that  all  his  accompts  were  written  in  sand,  and  his 
words  committed  to  the  empty  winds.  God  is  witness  to  the 
truth  of  this  apologie,  and  that  I  made  it  knowne  at  some 
parish  meetings  before  his  own  face,  who  could  not  deny  it, 
neither  do  I  write  it  to  blemishe  him,  but  to  cleere  my  own 
integritie  as  far  as  I  may,  and  to  give  accompt  of  this  mis- 
carryage  to  after  ages  by  the  subscription  of  my  hand. " 1 

We  may  hope  that  all  clerks  were  not  so  neglectful 
as  poor  Richard  Finch,  whose  name  is  thus  handed 
down  as  an  " awful  example"  to  all  careless  clerks. 
The  same  practice  of  the  parish  clerks  recording  the 
particulars  of  weddings,  christenings,  and  burials 
seems  to  have  prevailed  at  St.  Stephen's,  Coleman 
Street,  London,  in  1542,  as  the  following  order  shows  : 

"They  shall  every  week  certify  to  the  curate  and  the  church- 
wardens all  the  names  and  sir-names  of  them  that  be  wedded, 
christened,  and  buried  in  the  same  parish  that  week  sub 
pena  of  a  id.  to  be  paid  to  the  churche." 

In  this  case  the  curate  doubtless  entered  the  items 
in  the  register  as  they  were  delivered  to  him. 

At  St.  Margaret's,  Lothbury,  the  clerk  seems  to  have 
kept  the  register  himself.  Amongst  the  ordinances 

1  Social  Life  as  fold  by  Parish  Registers,  by  T.  F.  Thiselton-Dyer, 
P-  57- 


THE   CLERKS   AND   PARISH    REGISTERS      143 

made  by  "the  hole  consent  of  the   parrishiners "  in 
1571,  appears  the  following  : 

"  Item  the  Clarcke  shall  kepe  the  register  of  cristeninge 
weddinge  and  burynge  perfectlye,  and  shall  present  the 
same  everie  Sondaie  to  the  churche  wardens  to  be  perused 
by  them,  and  shall  have  for  his  paines  in  this  behaufe  yearelye 

o.  03.  4." 

It  is  evident  that  in  some  cases  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury the  clerk  kept  the  register.  But  in  far  the  larger 
number  of  parishes  the  records  were  inserted  by  the 
vicar  or  rector,  and  in  many  books  the  records  are  made 
in  Latin.  The  "clerk's  notes  "  from  which  the  entries 
were  made  are  still  preserved  in  some  parishes. 

In  times  of  laxity  and  confusion  wrought  by  the 
Civil  War  and  Puritan  persecution,  the  clerk  would 
doubtless  be  the  only  person  capable  of  keeping  the 
registers.  In  my  own  parish  the  earliest  book  begins 
in  the  year  1538,  and  is  kept  with  great  accuracy,  the 
entries  being  written  in  a  neat  scholarly  hand.  As 
time  goes  on  the  writing  is  still  very  good,  but  it  does 
not  seem  to  be  that  of  the  rector,  who  signs  his  name  at 
the  foot  of  the  page.  If  it  be  that  of  the  clerk,  he  is  a 
very  clerkly  clerk.  The  writing  gradually  gets  worse, 
especially  during  the  Commonwealth  period  ;  but  it  is 
no  careless  scribble.  The  clerk  evidently  took  pains 
and  fashioned  his  letters  after  the  model  of  the  old 
court-hand.  An  entry  appears  which  tells  of  the 
appointment  of  a  Parish  Registrar,  or  "  Register"  as 
he  was  called.  This  is  the  announcement : 

"  Whereas  Robt.  Williams  of  the  p  ish  of  Barkham  in  the 
County  of  Berks  was  elected  and  chosen  by  the  Inhabitants 
of  the  same  P  ish  to  be  their  p  ish  Register,  he  therefore  y* 
sd  Ro  :  Wm"  was  approved  and  sworne  this  sixteenth  day  of 
Novemb  ..  1653  Snd  R.  Bigg." 


144  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

Judging  from  the  similarity  of  the  writing  immedi- 
ately above  and  below  this  entry,  I  imagine  that  Robert 
Williams  must  have  been  the  old  clerk  who  was  so 
beloved  by  the  inhabitants  that  in  an  era  of  change, 
when  the  rector  was  banished  from  his  parish,  they 
elected  him  "  Parish  Register,"  and  thus  preserved  in 
some  measure  the  traditions  of  the  place.  The  children 
are  now  entered  as  "  borne"  and  not  baptised  as 
formerly. 

The  writing  gradually  gets  more  illiterate  and  care- 
less, until  the  Restoration  takes  place.  A  little  space 
is  left,  and  then  the  entries  are  recorded  in  a  scholarly 
handwriting,  evidently  the  work  of  the  new  rector. 
Subsequently  the  register  appears  to  have  been  usually 
kept  by  the  rector,  though  occasionally  there  are  lapses 
and  indifferent  writing  appears.  Sometimes  the  clerk 
has  evidently  supplied  the  deficiencies  of  his  master, 
recording  a  burial  or  a  wedding  which  the  rector  had 
omitted.  In  later  times,  when  pluralism  was  general, 
and  this  living  was  held  in  conjunction  with  three  or 
four  other  parishes,  the  rector  must  have  been  very 
dependent  upon  the  clerk  for  information  concern- 
ing the  functions  to  be  recorded.  Moreover,  when  a 
former  rector  who  was  a  noted  sportsman  and  one  of 
the  best  riders  and  keenest  hunters  in  the  county, 
sometimes  took  a  wedding  on  his  way  to  the  meet,  he 
would  doubtless  be  so  eager  for  the  chase  that  he  had 
little  leisure  to  record  the  exact  details  of  the  names  of 
the  "  happy  pair,"  and  must  have  trusted  much  to  the 
clerk. 

Some  of  the  private  registers  kept  by  clerks  are  still 
preserved.  There  is  one  at  Pattishall  which  contains 
entries  of  births,  marriages,  and  burials,  and  was 
probably  commenced  in  1774,  that  date  being  on  the 


THE   CLERKS   AND   PARISH    REGISTERS      145 

front  page  together  with  the  inscription:  "John  Clark's 
Register  Book."  The  writing  is  of  a  good  round-hand 
character,  and  far  superior  to  the  caligraphy  of  many 
present-day  clerks.  The  book  is  bound  in  vellum.1 
The  following  entry,  taken  from  the  end  of  the  volume, 
is  worth  recording  : 

"London,  March  3ith 

"Yesterday  the  Revd  Mr  Hetherington  .  .  .  transferred  . 
2o,ooop£.  South-Sea  Annuities  into  the  Names  of  Sr  Henry 
Banks  Kn*.  Thos  Burfoot,  Joseph  Eyre,  Thos  Coventry, 
and  Samuel  Salt .  Esqu™  in  Trust  to  pay  always  to  50  Blind 
people,  Objects  of,  Charity,  not  being  Beggars,  nor  re- 
ceiving-, Alms  from  the  Parish,  iO;£.  each  for  their  lives,  it 
may  be  said  with  great  propriety  of  this  truly  benevolent 
Gentleman  that  '  he  hath  displeased  abroad,  and  given  to 
the  poor  and  is  Righteousness  remaineth  for  ever ;  his  Horn 
shall  exalted  with  Honour."1 

Amongst  the  register  books  of  Wednesbury  there 
is  a  volume  bound  in  parchment  bearing  this  in- 
scription : 

"This  Book  seems  to  be  the  private  register  of  Alexander 
Bunn,   Parish  Clerk,   because  it  corresponds  with   another 
bearing  the  same  dates  ;  the  private  accounts  written  in  this 
book  by  the  said  A.  Bunn  seem  to  corroborate  my  opinion. 
"A.  B.   Haden 

"  Vicar  of  Wednesbury 

"  Aug-ust  7th  1782." 

These  accounts  appear  to  be  of  items  incurred  by  the 
parish  clerk  in  his  official  capacity,  and  which  were 
due  to  him  in  repayment  from  the  churchwardens. 
The  accompanying  remarks  of  this  old  Wednesbury 
parish  clerk  are  often  quaint  and  interesting. 

1  By  the  information  of  the  Rev.  B.  W.  Blyn-Stoyle,  who  has  most 
kindly  assisted  me  in  many  ways  in  discovering  quaint  records  of  old 
clerks. 


146  THE    PARISH    CLERK 

The  following  extracts  will  show  the  nature  of  the 
book  and  of  the  systematic  record  the  good  clerk  kept 
of  his  expenditure.  The  only  item  about  which  there 
is  some  uncertainty  is  the  amount  "  spent  at  Freeman's 
Coming  from  Visitation."  Is  it  possible  that  he  was 
so  much  excited  or  intoxicated  that  he  could  not 
remember? 

"  *737'  Land  tax  to  hon.  Adenbrook  o.  o.  n  Acount 
What  Mary  Tunks  as  ad.  Redy  money  4/-,  for  a 
hapern  2/-,  for  caps  1/6  and  for  shoes  2/6,  and  for 
ye  werk  6d.  Stokins  and  sues  mendering  6d,  and 
for  string"  2d,  and  for  a  Gound  3/-,  and  for  ale  for 
Hur  father  2d,  for  mending  Gound  8d,  for  stokens 
lod,  for  more  Shuse  strong-  2/6,  Shift  mending 
and  maken  5d,  for  Hur  mother  1/6,  for  a  Shift 

2/7-" 

To  this  day  old  Wednesbury  natives  say  "  hapern  " 
for  apron,  and  "  sues  "  for  shoes. 

"  Sep.  the  loth,  1745,  then  reed  of  Alex.  Bunn  the  sum  of 
six  pounds  for  one  year's  rent  due  at  Midsmar. 
Last  past  Ellin  Moris.  Wm.  Selvester  and  his 
man  the  first  wick  i4/-  Mr.  Butler  and  Gilbut 
Wrigh,  church  wardens  for  the  year  1741,  due  to 
Alex  Bunn  as  under.  Ringing  for  the  Visitation 
2/-,  spent  at  Roshall,  going  to  the  visitation  1/6-, 
spent  at  Henery  Rutoll  i/-,  paid  at  Litchfield  to 
the  Horsbox  (?)  6d,  Wm.  Aston  Had  Ale  at  my 
House  6d,  for  Micklmas  Supeles  washing  and 
lining  1/8,  for  Ringing-  for  the  nth  of  October 
5/-,  for  Ringing  for  the  3oth  of  October  5/-,  for 
half  year's  wages  Due  June  ye  24  £i  I2S.  6. 
Ringing  for  the  5th  November,  for  washing  the 
Supelis  and  Lining  and  Bread  at  Chrsmus  1/3, 
for  Easter  Supelis  washing  and  Lining  and  Bread 
1/8,  for  Joyle  for  the  Clock  and  Bells  2/6,  for 


THE   CLERKS   AND   PARISH    REGISTERS      147 

Leader  for  the  4th  Bell  Clapper  5d,  Ringing  for 
the  23rd  of  April  5/-,  for  making  the  Levy  2/-, 
for  a  hors  to  Lichfield  n/6,  pd  John  Stack 
going  to  Dudley  2  times  for  the  Clockman  i/-. 
For  a  monthly  (?)  meeting  to  Ralph  Momford 
Sep.  the  1 5th  2/-,  Spent  at  freeman's  Coming  from 
the  Visitation- "* 

But  we  have  grievous  things  to  record  with  regard 
to  the  clerks  and  the  registers,  not  that  they  were  to 
blame  so  much  as  the  proper  custodians,  who  neglected 
their  duties  and  left  these  precious  books  in  the  hands 
of  ignorant  clerks  to  be  preserved  in  poor  overcrowded 
cottages.  But  the  parish  clerks  sinned  grievously. 
One  Phillips,  clerk  of  Lambeth  parish,  ran  away  with 
the  register  book,  so  Francis  Sadler  tells  us  in  his 
curious  book,  The  Exaction  and  Imposition  of  Parish 
Fees  Discovered,  published  in  1738,  "whereby  the 
parish  became  great  sufferers ;  and  in  such  a  case 
no  person  that  is  fifty  years  old,  and  born  in  the 
parish,  can  have  a  transcript  of  the  Register  to  prove 
themselves  heir  to  an  estate."  Moreover,  Master 
Sadler,  who  was  very  severe  on  parish  clerks,  tells  of 
the  iniquities  of  the  Battersea  clerk  who  used  to 
register  boys  for  girls  and  girls  for  boys,  and  not  one- 
half  of  the  register  book,  in  his  time,  was  correct  and 
authentic,  as  it  ought  to  be. 

What  shall  be  said  of  the  carelessness  of  an  incum- 
bent who  allowed  the  register  to  be  kept  by  the  clerk 
in  his  poor  cottage?  When  a  gentleman  called  to 
obtain  an  extract  from  the  book,  the  clerk  produced 
the  valuable  tome  from  a  drawer  in  an  old  table,  where 
it  was  reposing  with  a  mass  of  rubbish.  Another  old 

1  Olden  Wednesbury,  by  F.  W.  Hackwood,  who  kindly  sent  me  this 
information. 


148  THE    PARISH    CLERK 

parchment  register  was  discovered  in  a  cottage  in  a 
Northamptonshire  parish,  some  of  the  pages  of  which 
were  tacked  together  as  a  covering  for  the  tester  of 
a  bedstead.  The  clerk  in  another  parish  followed  the 
calling  of  a  tailor,  and  found  the  old  register  book  useful 
for  the  purpose  of  providing  himself  with  measures. 
With  this  object  he  cut  out  sixteen  leaves  of  the  old 
book,  which  he  regarded  in  the  light  of  waste  paper. 

A  gentleman  on  one  occasion  visited  a  church  in 
order  to  examine  the  registers  of  an  Essex  parish.  He 
found  the  record  for  which  he  was  searching,  and 
asked  the  clerk  to  make  the  extract  for  him.  Un- 
fortunately this  official  had  no  ink  or  paper  at  hand 
with  which  to  copy  out  the  entry,  and  casually  ob- 
served : 

"  Oh,  you  may  as  well  have  the  leaf  as  it  is,"  and 
without  any  hesitation  took  out  his  pocket-knife,  cut 
out  the  leaf  and  gave  the  gentleman  the  two  entire 
pages.1 

Another  scandalous  case  was  that  of  the  clerk  who 
combined  his  ecclesiastical  duties  with  those  of  the 
village  grocer.  The  pages  of  the  parish  register  he 
found  most  useful  for  wrapping  up  his  goods  for  his 
customers.  He  was,  however,  no  worse  than  the 
curate's  wife,  who  ought  to  have  known  better,  and 
who  used  the  leaves  of  the  registers  for  making  her 
husband's  kettle-holders. 

What  shall  be  said  for  the  guardians  of  the  church 
documents  of  Blythburgh,  Suffolk  ?  The  parish  chest 
preserved  in  the  church  was  at  one  time  full  of  valuable 
documents  in  addition  to  very  complete  registers.  So 
Suckling,  the  historian  of  Suffolk,  reported.  Alas  ! 

1  History  of  Parish  Registers,  by  Burn  ;  Social  Life  as  told  by  Parish 
Registers,  by  T.  F.  Thiselton-Dyer,  p.  2. 


THE   CLERKS   AND   PARISH    REGISTERS      149 

these  have  nearly  all  disappeared.  Scarcely  anything 
remains  of  the  earliest  volume  of  the  register  which 
concludes  with  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and 
the  old  deeds  have  gone  also.  How  could  this  terrible 
loss  have  occurred?  It  appears  that  a  parish  clerk,  "in 
showing  this  fine  old  church  to  visitors,  presented  those 
curious  in  old  papers  and  autographs  with  a  leaf  from 
the  register,  or  some  other  document,  as  a  memento 
of  their  visit."1 

Another  clerk  was  extremely  popular  with  the  old 
ladies  of  the  village,  and  used  to  cut  out  the  parchment 
leaves  of  the  registers  and  present  them  to  his  old 
lady  friends  for  wrapping  their  knitting  pins.  He  was 
also  the  village  schoolmaster,  as  many  of  his  pre- 
decessors had  been,  but  this  wretch  used  to  cover 
the  backs  of  his  pupil's  lesson-books  with  leaves  of 
parchment  taken  from  the  parish  chest.  Another  clerk 
found  the  leaves  of  the  registers  very  useful  for  "singe- 
ing a  goose." 

The  value  of  old  registers  for  proving  titles  to  estates 
and  other  property  is  of  course  inestimable.  Some- 
times incomes  of  thousands  of  pounds  depend  upon  a 
little  entry  in  one  of  these  old  books,  and  it  is  terrible 
to  think  of  the  jeopardy  in  which  they  stand  when 
they  rest  in  the  custody  of  a  careless  clerk  or  apathetic 
vicar. 

The  present  writer  owes  much  to  the  faithful  care 
of  a  good  clerk,  who  guarded  well  the  registers  of 
a  defunct  City  church  of  London.  My  father  was 
endeavouring  to  prove  his  title  to  an  estate  in  the 
north  country,  and  had  to  obtain  the  certificates  of  the 
births,  deaths,  and  marriages  of  the  family  during 
about  a  century.  One  wedding  could  not  be  proved. 

1  Social  Life  as  told  by  Parish  Registers  ;  also  Standard,  8  Jan.,  1880. 


150  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Report  stated  that  it  had  been  a  runaway  marriage, 
and  that  the  bride  and  bridegroom  had  fled  to  London 
to  be  married  in  a  City  church.  My  father  casually 
heard  of  the  name  of  some  church  where  it  was 
thought  that  the  wedding  might  have  taken  place.  He 
wrote  to  the  authorities  of  that  church.  It  had,  how- 
ever, ceased  to  exist.  The  church  had  disappeared, 
but  the  old  clerk  was  alive  and  knew  where  the  books 
were.  He  searched,  and  found  the  missing  register, 
and  the  chain  of  evidence  was  complete  and  the  title 
to  the  property  fully  established,  which  was  confirmed 
after  much  troublesome  litigation  by  the  Court  of 
Chancery. 

Sometimes  litigants  have  sought  to  remove  trouble- 
some entries  in  those  invaluable  books  which  record 
with  equal  impartiality  the  entrance  into  the  world  and 
the  departure  from  it  of  peer  or  peasant.  And  in  such 
dramas  the  clerk  frequently  appears.  The  old  man 
has  to  be  bribed  or  cajoled  to  allow  the  books  to  be 
tampered  with.  A  stranger  arrives  one  evening  at 
Rochester,  and  demands  of  the  clerk  to  be  shown  the 
registers.  The  stranger  finds  the  entry  upon  which 
much  depends.  In  its  present  form  it  does  not  support 
his  case.  It  must  be  altered  in  order  to  meet  his 
requirements.  The  clerk  hovers  about  the  vestry, 
alert,  vigilant.  He  must  be  got  rid  of.  The  stranger 
proposes  various  inducements ;  the  temptation  of  a 
comfortable  seat  in  a  cosy  corner  of  the  nearest  inn,  a 
stimulating  glass,  but  all  in  vain.  There  is  something 
suspicious  about  the  stranger's  looks  and  manners  ;  so 
the  clerk  thinks.  He  sticks  to  his  elbow  like  a  leech, 
and  nothing  can  shake  him  off.  At  length  the  stranger 
offers  the  poor  clerk  a  goodly  bribe  if  only  he  will  help 
him  to  alter  a  few  words  in  that  all-important  register. 


THE   CLERKS   AND   PARISH    REGISTERS      151 

I  am  not  sure  whether  the  clerk  yielded  to  the  temp- 
tation. 

There  was  a  still  more  dramatic  scene  in  the  old 
vestry  of  Lainston  Church,  where  a  few  years  previously 
a  Miss  Chudleigh  had  been  married  to  Lieutenant 
Hervey.  This  young  lady,  who  was  not  remarkable 
for  her  virtue,  arrived  one  day  at  the  church  accom- 
panied by  a  fascinating  friend  who,  while  Mrs.  Hervey 
examined  the  register,  exercised  her  blandishments  on 
the  clerk.  She  expressed  much  interest  in  the  church, 
and  asked  him  endless  questions  about  its  architecture, 
the  state  of  his  health,  his  family,  his  duties;  and  while 
this  little  by-play  was  proceeding  Mrs.  Hervey  was 
carefully  and  noiselessly  cutting  out  th,e  page  in  the 
register  which  contained  the  entry  of  her  marriage. 
Having  removed  the  tell-tale  page  she  hastily  closed 
the  book,  summoned  her  fascinating  friend,  and 
hastened  back  to  London.  The  clerk,  still  thinking  of 
the  beautiful  lady  who  had  been  so  friendly  and  given 
him  such  a  handsome  present,  locked  the  safe,  and 
never  discovered  the  theft.  But  time  brought  its 
revenge.  Lieutenant  Hervey  succeeded  unexpectedly 
to  the  title  of  the  earldom  of  Bristol.  His  wife  was 
overcome  with  remorse.  By  her  foolish  scheme  she 
had  sacrificed  a  coronet.  That  missing  paper  must  be 
restored  ;  and  so  the  lady  pays  another  visit  to  Lainston 
Church,  on  this  occasion  in  the  company  of  a  lawyer. 
The  old  clerk  unlocks  again  the  parish  chest.  The 
books  are  again  produced  ;  confession  is  made  of  the 
former  theft  ;  the  lawyer  looks  threateningly  at  the 
clerk,  and  tells  him  that  if  it  should  ever  be  discovered 
he  will  suffer  as  an  accomplice  ;  and  then,  with  the 
promise  of  a  substantial  bribe,  the  clerk  consents  to  give 
his  aid.  The  missing  paper  is  produced  and  deftly  in- 


152  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

serted  in  its  former  place  in  the  book,  and  Miss  Chud- 
leigh  becomes  the  Countess  of  Bristol.  It  is  a  curious 
story,  but  it  has  the  merit  of  being  true.  Many  strange 
romances  are  bound  up  within  the  stained  and  battered 
parchment  covers  of  an  old  register. 

Sometimes  the  clerk  seems  to  have  recorded  in  the 
register  book  some  entries  which  scarcely  relate  to 
ecclesiastical  usages  or  spiritual  concerns.  Agree- 
ments or  bargains  were  inserted  occasionally,  and  the 
fact  that  it  was  recorded  in  the  church  books  testified  to 
the  binding  nature  of  the  transaction.  Thus  in  the 
book  of  St.  Mary  Magdalene,  Cambridge,  in  the  year 
1692,  it  is  announced  that  Thomas  Smith  promises  to 
supply  John  Wingate  "with  hatts  for  twenty  shillings 
the  yeare  during  life."  Mr.  Thiselton-Dyer,  who 
records  this  transaction  in  his  book  on  Social  Life  as 
told  by  Parish  Registers,  conjectures  with  evident  truth 
that  the  aforenamed  men  made  this  bargain  at  an  ale- 
house, and  the  parish  clerk,  being  present,  undertook 
to  register  the  agreement. 

A  most  remarkable  clerk  lived  at  Grafton  Underwood 
in  the  eighteenth  century,  one  Thomas  Carley,  who  was 
born  in  that  village  in  1755,  having  no  hands  and  one 
deformed  leg.  Notwithstanding  that  nature  seemed  to 
.have  deprived  him  of  all  means  of  manual  labour,  he 
rose  to  the  position  of  parish  schoolmaster  and  parish 
clerk.  He  contrived  a  pair  of  leather  rings,  into  which 
he  thrust  the  stumps  of  his  arms,  which  ended  at  the 
elbow,  and  with  the  aid  of  these  he  held  a  pen,  ruler, 
knife  and  fork,  etc.  The  register  books  of  the  parish 
show  admirable  specimens  of  his  wonderful  writing, 
and  I  have  in  my  possession  a  tracing  made  by  Mr. 
Wise,  of  Weekley,  from  the  label  fixed  inside  the  cover 
of  one  of  the  large  folio  Prayer  Books  which  used  to 


THE   CLERKS   AND   PARISH   REGISTERS      153 

be  in  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch's  pew  before  the  church 
was  restored,  and  were  then  removed  to  Boughton 
House.  These  books  contain  many  beautifully  written 
papers,  chiefly  supplying  lost  ones  from  the  Psalms. 
The  writing  is  simply  like  copper-plate  engraving.  In 
the  British  Museum,  amongst  the  "additional  MSS." 
is  an  interleaved  edition  of  Bridge's  History  of  North- 
amptonshire, bound  in  five  volumes.  In  the  fourth 
volume,  under  the  account  of  Grafton  Underwood,  some 
particulars  have  been  inserted  of  the  life  of  this  extra- 
ordinary man,  with  a  water-colour  portrait  of  him  taken 
by  one  of  his  pupils,  E.  Bradley.  There  is  also  a  speci- 
men of  his  writing,  the  Lord's  Prayer  inscribed  within 
a  circle  about  the  size  of  a  shilling.  There  is  also  in 
existence  "a  mariner's  compass,"  most  accurately 
drawn  by  him.  He  died  in  1823. 


CHAPTER   XII 
THE   CLERK   AS   A   POET 

THE  parish  clerk,  skilled  in  psalmody,  has  some- 
times shown  evidences  of  true  poetic  feeling. 
The  divine  afflatus  has  occasionally  inspired  in  him 
some  fine  thoughts  and  graceful  fancies.  His  race  has 
produced  many  writers  of  terrible  doggerel  of  the 
monumental  class  of  poetry ;  but  far  removed  from 
these  there  have  been  some  who  have  composed  fine 
hymns  and  sweet  verse. 

An  obscure  hymn-writer,  whose  verses  have  been 
sung  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  was  Thomas  Bilby, 
parish  clerk  of  St.  Mary's  Church,  Islington,  between 
the  years  1842  and  1872.  He  was  the  parish  school- 
master also,  and  thus  maintained  the  traditions  of  his 
office  handed  down  from  mediaeval  times.  Before  the 
days  of  School  Boards  it  was  not  unusual  for  the  clerk 
to  teach  the  children  of  the  working  classes  the  three 
R's  and  religious  knowledge,  charging  a  fee  of  two- 
pence per  week  for  each  child.  Mrs.  Mary  Strathern 
has  kindly  sent  me  the  following  account  of  the  church 
wherein  Thomas  Bilby  served  as  clerk,  and  of  the 
famous  hymn  which  he  wrote. 

The  church  of  St.  Mary's,  Islington,  was  not  inter- 
nally a  thing  of  beauty.  It  was  square  ;  it  had  no 
chancel ;  the  walls  were  covered  with  monuments  and 


THE   CLERK   AS   A  POET  155 

tablets  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  departed  parish- 
ioners. On  three  sides  it  had  a  wide  gallery,  the  west 
end  of  which  contained  the  organ,  with  the  Royal 
Arms  as  large  as  life  in  front.  On  either  side  below 
the  galleries  were  double  rows  of  high  pews,  and  down 
the  centre  passage  a  row  of  open  benches  for  the  poor. 
Between  these  benches  and  the  altar,  completely 
hiding  the  altar  from  the  congregation,  stood  a  huge 
" three-decker."  The  pulpit,  on  a  level  with  the 
galleries,  was  reached  by  a  staircase  at  the  back  ;  below 
that  was  "the  reading  desk,"  from  which  the  curate 
said  the  prayers ;  and  below  that  again,  a  smaller 
desk,  where,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  for  thirty  years, 
T.  Bilby,  parish  clerk  and  schoolmaster,  gave  out 
the  hymns,  read  the  notices,  and  published  the  banns 
of  marriage.  He  was  short  and  stout ;  his  hair  was 
white ;  he  wore  a  black  gown  with  deep  velvet  collar, 
ornamented  with  many  tassels  and  fringes ;  and  he 
carried  a  staff  of  office. 

It  was  a  great  missionary  parish.  The  vicar,  Daniel 
Wilson,  was  a  son  of  that  well-known  Daniel  Wilson, 
sometime  vicar  of  Islington,  and  afterwards  Bishop  of 
Calcutta.  The  Church  Missionary  College,  where  many 
young  missionaries  sent  out  by  the  Church  Missionary 
Society  are  trained,  stood  in  our  midst ;  and  it  was 
within  St.  Mary's  Church  the  writer  saw  the  venerable 
Bishop  Crowther,  of  the  Niger,  ordain  his  own  son 
deacon.  Mr.  Bilby  had  at  one  time  been  a  catechist 
and  schoolmaster  in  Sierra  Leone,  and  was  full  of 
interesting  stories  of  the  mission  work  amongst  the 
freed  slaves  in  that  settlement.  He  had  a  magic 
lantern,  with  many  views  of  Africa,  and  of  the  churches 
and  schools  in  the  mission  fields,  and  often  gave 
missionary  lectures  to  the  school  children.  It  was  on 


156  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

one  of  these  occasions,  when  he  had  been  telling  us 
about  his  work  abroad,  and  how  he  soon  got  to  know 
when  a  black  boy  had  a  dirty  face,  that  he  said : 
"While  I  was  in  Africa,  I  composed  a  hymn,  and 
taught  the  black  children  to  sing  it ;  and  now  there  is 
not  a  Christian  school  in  any  part  of  the  world  where 
my  hymn  is  not  known  and  sung.  I  will  begin  it  now, 
and  you  will  all  sing  it  with  me."  Then  the  old  man 
began  : 

"  Here  we  suffer  grief  and  pain." 

Immediately  every  child  in  the  room  took  it  up,  and 
sang  with  might  and  main  : 

"  Here  we  meet  to  part  again  ; 
In  heaven  we  part  no  more." 

We  had  always  thought  the  familiar  words  were  as  old 
as  the  Bible  itself,  and  could  scarcely  believe  they  had 
been  written  by  our  own  old  friend. 

Soon  after  that  memorable  night,  the  old  man  began 
to  get  feeble  ;  his  place  in  the  church  and  schools  was 
frequently  filled  by  "Young  Bilby,"  as  he  was  fami- 
liarly called  ;  and  in  1872,  aged  seventy-eight,  the  old 
parish  clerk  was  gathered  to  his  fathers,  and  his  son 
reigned  in  his  stead. 

The  other  day  a  copy  of  a  Presbyterian  hymn-book 
found  its  way  into  my  house,  and  there  I  found  "  Here 
we  suffer  grief  and  pain."  I  turned  up  the  index 
which  gives  the  names  of  authors,  wondering  if  the 
compilers  knew  anything  of  the  source  from  whence  it 
came,  and  found  the  name  "  Bilby  "  ;  but  who  "  Bilby  " 
was,  and  where  he  lived,  is  known  to  very  few  outside 
the  parish,  where  the  name  is  a  household  word,  for 
Mr.  Bilby's  son  is  still  the  parish  clerk  of  St.  Mary, 
Islington,  and  through  him  we  learn  that  his  father 


THE    CLERK   AS   A   POET  157 

composed  the  tune  as  well  as  the  words  of  "  Here  we 
suffer  grief  and  pain." 

As  the  hymn  is  not  included  in  Hymns  Ancient  and 
Modern  or  some  other  well-known  collection,  perhaps 
it  will  be  well  to  print  the  first  two  verses.  It  is  pub- 
lished in  John  Curwen's  The  Child's  Own  Hymn  Book  : 

"  Here  we  suffer  grief  and  pain  ; 
Here  we  meet  to  part  again : 
In  heaven  we  part  no  more. 

O  !  that  will  be  joyful, 
Joyful,  joyful,  joyful, 
O!  that  will  be  joyful! 
When  we  meet  to  part  no  more  ! 

"All  who  love  the  Lord  below, 
When  they  die  to  heaven  will  go, 
And  sing-  with  saints  above. 
O !  that,"  etc. 

A  poet  of  a  different  school  was  Robert  Story, 
schoolmaster  and  parish  clerk  of  Gargrave,  Yorkshire. 
He  was  born  at  Wark,  Northumberland,  in  1795,  but 
migrated  to  Gargrave  in  1820,  where  he  remained 
twenty  years.  Then  he  obtained  the  situation  of  a 
clerk  in  the  Audit  Office,  Somerset  House,  at  a  salary 
of  £90  a  year,  which  he  held  till  his  death  in  1860. 
His  volume  of  poems,  entitled  Songs  and  Lyrical 
Poems,  contains  some  charming  verse.  He  wrote  a 
pathetic  poem  on  the  death  of  the  son  of  a  gentleman 
at  Malham,  killed  while  bird-nesting  on  the  rocks  of 
Cam  Scar.  Another  poem,  The  Danish  Camp,  tells  of 
the  visit  of  King  Alfred  to  the  stronghold  of  his  foes, 
and  has  some  pretty  lines.  "  O,  love  has  a  favourite 
scene  for  roaming,"  is  a  tender  little  poem.  The 
following  example  of  his  verse  is  of  a  humorous 
and  festive  type.  It  is  taken  from  a  volume  of  his 


158  THE    PARISH    CLERK 

productions,  entitled  The  Magic  Fountain,  and  Other 
Poems,  published  in  1829: 

"  Learn  next  that  I  am  parish  clerk  : 
A  noble  office,  by  St.  Mark  ! 
It  brings  me  in  six  guineas  clear, 
Besides  et  c&teras  every  year. 
I  waive  my  Sunday  duty,  when 
I  give  the  solemn  deep  Amen  ; 
Exalted  then  to  breathe  aloud 
The  heart-devotion  of  the  crowd. 
But  oh,  the  fun  !  when  Christmas  chimes 
Have  ushered  in  the  festal  times, 
And  sent  the  clerk  and  sexton  round 
To  pledge  their  friends  in  draughts  profound, 
And  keep  on  foot  the  good  old  plan, 
As  only  clerk  and  sexton  can  ! 
Nor  less  the  sport,  when  Easter  sees 
The  daisy  spring  to  deck  her  leas  ; 
Then,  claim'd  as  dues  by  Mother  Church, 
I  pluck  the  cackler  from  the  perch  ; 
Or,  in  its  place,  the  shilling  clasp 
From  grumbling  dame's  slow  opening  grasp. 
But,  Visitation  Day  !  'tis  thine 
Best  to  deserve  my  native  line. 
Great  day  !  the  purest,  brightest  gem 
That  decks  the  fair  year's  diadem. 
Grand  day  !  that  sees  me  costless  dine 
And  costless  quaff  the  rosy  wine, 
Till  seven  churchwardens  doubled  seem, 
And  doubled  every  taper's  gleam  ; 
And  I  triumphant  over  time, 
And  over  tune,  and  over  rhyme, 
Call'd  by  the  gay  convivial  throng, 
Lead,  in  full  glee,  the  choral  song  !  " 

The  writers  of  doggerel  verses  have  been  numerous. 
The  following  is  a  somewhat  famous  composition 
which  has  been  kindly  sent  to  me  by  various  corre- 
spondents. My  father  used  to  tell  us  the  rhymes  when 
we  were  children,  and  they  have  evidently  become 
notorious.  The  clerk  who  composed  them  lived  in 


THE    CLERK   AS    A    POET  159 

Somersetshire,1  and  when  the  Lord  Bishop  of  the 
Diocese  came  to  visit  his  church,  he  thought  that  such 
an  occasion  ought  not  to  be  passed  over  without  a 
fitting  tribute  to  the  distinguished  prelate.  He  there- 
fore composed  a  new  and  revised  version  of  Tate  and 
Brady's  metrical  rendering  of  Psalm  Ixvii.,  and  an- 
nounced his  production  after  this  manner  : 

"  Let  us  zing  to  the  Praze  an'  Glory  of  God  part  of 
the  zixty-zeventh  Zalm ;  zspeshul  varshun  zspesh'ly 
'dapted  vur  t'cazshun. 

"  W'y  'op  ye  zo  ye  little  'ills? 

And  what  var  du  'ee  zskip  ? 
Is  it  a'cause  ter  prach  too  we 
Is  cum'd  me  Lord  Biship? 

"  W'y  zskip  ye  zo  ye  little  'ills  ? 

An'  whot  var  du  'ee  "op  ? 
Is  it  a'cause  to  prach  too  we 
Is  cum'd  me  Lord  Bishop? 

"Then  let  us  awl  arize  an'  zing, 

An'  let  us  awl  stric  up, 
An'  zing  a  glawrious  zong  uv  praze ; 
An'  bless  me  Lord  Bishup." 

A  somewhat  similar  effusion  was  composed  by  Eldad 
Holland,  parish  clerk  of  Christ  Church,  Kilbrogan 
parish,  Bandon,  County  Cork,  in  Ireland.  This  church 
was  built  in  1610,  and  has  the  reputation  of  being  the 
first  edifice  erected  in  Ireland  for  the  use  of  the  Church 
of  Ireland  after  the  Reformation.  Bandon  was  origin- 
ally colonised  by  English  settlers  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  and  for  a  long  time  was  a  noted  stronghold 
of  Protestantism.  This  fact  may  throw  light  upon  the 
opinions  and  sentiments  of  Master  Holland,  an  original 

1  Another  correspondent  states  that  the  incident  occurred  at  Brad- 
ford-on-Avon  in  1806.  Mr.  Francis  Bevan  remembers  hearing  a  similar 
version  at  Dover  about  sixty  years  ago.  Can  it  be  that  these  various 
clerks  were  plagiarists? 


160  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

character,  whose  tombstone  records  that  "he  departed 
this  life  ye  2gih  day  of  yber  1722."  When  the  news  of 
the  victory  of  William  III  reached  Bandon  there  were 
great  rejoicings,  and  Eldad  paraphrased  a  portion  of 
the  morning  service  in  honour  of  the  occasion.  After 
the  first  lesson  he  gave  out  the  following  notice : 

11  Let  us  sing  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  William,  a 
psalm  of  my  own  composing  : 

"William  is  come  home   come  home, 

William  home  is  come, 
And  now  let  us  in  his  praise 
Sing  a  Te  Deum." 

He  then  continued:  "  We  praise  thee,  O  William! 
we  acknowledge  thee  to  be  our  king  ! "  adding  with 
an  impressive  shake  of  the  head,  "And  faith,  a  good 
right  we  have,  for  it  was  he  who  saved  us  from  brass 
money,  wooden  shoes  and  Popery."  He  then  resumed 
the  old  version,  and  reverently  continued  it  to  the  end.1 
In  a  parish  in  North  Devon2  there  was  a  poetical 
clerk  who  had  great  reverence  for  Bishop  Henry 
Phillpotts,  and  on  giving  out  the  hymn  he  proclaimed 
his  regard  in  this  form  :  "  Let  us  sing  to  the  glory  of 
God,  and  of  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Exeter."  On  one 
occasion  his  lordship  held  a  confirmation  in  the 

1  This  information  was  kindly  sent  to  me  by  Mr.  Robert  Clarke,  of 
Castle  Eden,  Durham,  who  states  that  he  derived  the  information  from 
The  History  of  Bandon ,  by  George  Bennett  (1869).  My  father  used  to 
repeat  the  following  version  : 

"  King  William  is  come  home, 

Come  home  King  William  is  come  ; 
So  let  us  then  together  sing 

A  hymn  that's  called  Te  D'um." 

1  am  not  sure  which  version  is  the  better  poetry !     The  latter  corre- 
sponds with  the  version  composed  by  Wesley's  clerk  at  Epworth,  old 
John  ;  so  Clarke  in  his  memoirs  of  the  Wesley  family  records. 

2  My  kind  correspondent,  the  Rev.  J.  B.  Hughes,  abstains  from  men- 
tioning the  name  of  the  parish. 


THE   CLERK   AS   A  POET  161 

church  on  5  November,  when  it  is  said  the  clerk  gave 
out  the  Psalm  in  the  usual  way,  adding,  "  in  a  stave  of 
my  own  composing  "  : 

"  This  is  the  day  that  was  the  night 

When  the  Papists  did  conspire 
To  blow  up  the  King  and  Parliament  House 
With  Gundy-powdy-ire." 

My  informant  cannot  vouch  for  the  truth  of  this 
story,  but  he  can  for  the  fact  that  when  Bishop  Phill- 
potts  on  another  occasion  visited  the  church  his  lordship 
was  surprised  to  hear  the  clerk  give  out  at  the  end  of 
the  service,  "Let  us  sing  in  honour  of  his  lordship, 
'God  save  the  King.''  The  bishop  rose  somewhat 
hastily,  saying  to  his  chaplain,  "Come  along,  Barnes; 
we  shall  have  '  Rule,  Britannia  ! '  next." 

Cuthbert  Bede  tells  the  story  of  a  poetical  clerk  who 
was  much  aggrieved  because  some  disagreeable  and 
naughty  folk  had  maliciously  damaged  his  garden 
fence.  On  the  next  Sunday  he  gave  out  "a  stave  of 
his  own  composing  "  : 

"  Oh,  Lord,  how  doth  the  wicked  man  ; 

They  increases  more  and  more  ; 
They  break  the  posts,  likewise  the  rails 
Around  this  poor  clerk's  door." 

He  almost  deserved  his  fate  for  barbarously  mutilating 
a  metrical  Psalm,  and  was  evidently  a  proper  victim 
of  poetical  justice. 

A  Devonshire  clerk  wrote  the  following  noble  effort: — 

"  Mount  Edgcumbe  is  a  pleasant  place 
Right  o'er  agenst  the  Ham-o-aze, 
Where  ships  do  ride  at  anchor, 
To  guard  us  agin  our  foes.     Amen." 

Besides  writing   "hymns  of  his  own  composing," 
the  parish  clerk  often  used  to  give  vent  to  his  poetical 
talents  in  the  production  of  epitaphs.     The  occupation 
M 


162  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

of  writing  epitaphs  must  have  been  a  lucrative  one, 
and  the  effusions  recording  the  numerous  virtues  of 
the  deceased  are  quaint  and  curious.  Well  might  a 
modern  English  child  ask  her  mother  after  hearing 
these  records  read  to  her,  "  Where  were  all  the  bad 
people  buried?  "  Learned  scholars  and  abbots  applied 
their  talents  to  the  production  of  the  Latin  verses  in- 
scribed on  old  brass  memorials  of  the  dead,  and  clever 
ladies  like  Dame  Elizabeth  Hobby  sometimes  wrote 
them  and  appended  their  names  to  their  compositions. 
In  later  times  this  task  seems  to  have  been  often  under- 
taken by  the  parish  clerk  with  not  altogether  satis- 
factory results,  though  incumbents  and  great  poets, 
among  whom  may  be  enumerated  Pope  and  Byron, 
sometimes  wrote  memorials  of  their  friends.  But  the 
clerk  was  usually  responsible  for  these  inscriptions. 
Master  John  Hopkins,  clerk  at  one  of  the  churches  at 
Salisbury  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  issued 
an  advertisement  of  his  various  accomplishments  which 
ran  thus : 

"John  Hopkins,  parish  clerk  and  undertaker,  sells 
epitaphs  of  all  sorts  and  prices.  Shaves  neat,  and 
plays  the  bassoon.  Teeth  drawn,  and  the  Salisbury 
Journal  read  gratis  every  Sunday  morning  at  eight. 
A  school  for  psalmody  every  Thursday  evening,  when 
my  son,  born  blind,  will  play  the  fiddle.  Specimen 
epitaph  on  my  wife  : 

My  wife  ten  years,  not  much  to  my  ease, 
But  now  she  is  dead,  in  caslo  quies. 

Great  variety  to  be  seen  within.    Your  humble  servant, 
John  Hopkins." 

Poor  David  Diggs,  the  hero  of  Hewett's  story  of  The 
Parish  Clerk,  used  to  write  epitaphs  in  strange  and 


THE   CLERK   AS   A   POET  163 

curious  English.  Just  before  his  death  he  put  a  small 
piece  of  paper  into  the  hands  of  the  clergyman  of  the 
parish,  and  whispered  a  request  that  its  contents  might 
be  attended  to.  When  the  clergyman  afterwards  read 
the  paper  he  found  the  following  epitaph,  which  was 
duly  inscribed  on  the  clerk's  grave  : 

"  Reader  Don't  stop  nor  shed  no  tears 
For  I  was  parish  clerk  For  60  years  ; 
If  I  lived  on  I  could  not  now  as  Then 
Say  to  the  Parson's  Prases  A  loud  Amen." 

A  very  worthy  poetical  clerk  was  John  Bennet,  shoe- 
maker, of  Woodstock.  A  long  account  of  him  appears 
in  the  Lives  of  Illustrious  Shoemakers,  written  by  W.  E. 
Winks.  He  inherited  the  office  of  parish  clerk  from 
his  father,  and  with  it  some  degree  of  musical  taste. 
In  the  preface  to  his  poems  he  wrote:  ''Witness  my 
early  acquaintance  with  the  pious  strains  of  Sternhold 
and  Hopkins,  under  that  melodious  psalmodist  my 
honoured  Father,  and  your  approved  Parish  Clerk." 
This  is  addressed  to  the  Rev.  Thomas  Warton,  Pro- 
fessor of  Poetry  at  Oxford,  and  sometime  curate  of 
Woodstock,  to  whose  patronage  and  ready  aid  John 
Bennet  was  greatly  indebted.  Southey,  who  succeeded 
Warton  in  the  Professorship,  wrote  that  "This  Wood- 
stock shoemaker  was  chiefly  indebted  for  the  patronage 
which  he  received  to  Thomas  Warton's  good  nature  ; 
for  my  predecessor  was  the  best-hearted  man  that  ever 
wore  a  great  wig."  Certainly  the  list  of  subscribers 
printed  at  the  beginning  of  his  early  work  is  amazingly 
long.  Noblemen,  squires,  parsons,  great  ladies,  all 
rushed  to  secure  the  cobbler-clerk's  poems,  which  were 
published  in  1774.  The  poems  consist  mainly  of  simple 
rhymes  or  rustic  themes,  and  are  not  without  merit 
or  humour.  He  is  very  modest  and  humble  about 


164  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

his  poetical  powers,  and  tells  that  his  reason  for 
publishing  his  verses  was  "to  enable  the  author  to  rear 
an  infant  offspring  and  to  drive  away  all  anxious  solici- 
tude from  the  breast  of  a  most  amiable  wife."  His 
humour  is  shown  in  the  conclusion  of  his  Dedication, 
where  he  wrote  : 

"I  had  proceeded  thus  far  when  I  was  called  to 
measure  a  gentleman  of  a  certain  college  for  a  pair  of 
fashionable  boots,  and  the  gentleman  having  insisted 
on  a  perusal  of  what  I  was  writing,  told  me  that  a 
dedication  should  be  as  laconic  as  the  boots  he  had 
employed  me  to  make  ;  and  then,  taking  up  my  pen, 
added  this  scrap  of  Latin  for  a  Heel-piece,  as  he  called 
it,  to  my  Dedication  : 

'  '•Jam  satis  est;  ne  me  Crispini  scrinia  lippi 
Compilasse putes,  vertum  -non  amplius." 

The  cobbler  poet  concludes  his  verses  with  the 
humorous  lines : 

"  So  may  our  cobler  rise  by  friendly  aid, 
Be  happy  and  successful  in  his  trade  ; 
His  awl  and  pen  with  readiness  be  found, 
To  make  or  keep  our  understandings  sound." 

Later  in  life  John  Bennet  published  another  volume, 
entitled  Redemption.  It  was  dedicated  to  Dr.  Mavor, 
rector  of  Woodstock.  It  is  a  noble  poem,  far  exceed- 
ing in  merit  his  first  essay,  and  it  is  a  remarkable  and 
wonderful  composition  for  a  self-taught  village  shoe- 
maker. The  author-clerk  died  and  was  buried  at 
Woodstock  in  1803. 

A  fine  character  and  graceful  poet  was  Richard 
Furness,1  parish  clerk  of  Dore,  five  miles  from  Shal- 
field,  a  secluded  hamlet.  He  was  then  styled  "The 
Poet  of  the  Peak,"  of  sonorous  voice  and  clear  of 

1  Biographical  Sketches  of  Remarkable  People,  by  Spencer  T.  Hall. 


THE   CLERK   AS   A   POET  165 

speech,  the  author  of  many  poems,  and  factotum 
supreme  of  the  village  and  neighbourhood.  Two 
volumes  of  his  poems  have  been  published.  He  com- 
bined, like  many  of  his  order,  the  office  of  parish 
clerk  with  that  of  schoolmaster,  his  schoolroom  being 
under  the  same  roof  as  his  house.  Thither  crowds 
flocked.  He  was  an  immense  favourite.  The  teacher 
of  children,  healer  of  all  the  lame  and  sick  folk,  the 
consoler  and  adviser  of  the  troubled,  he  played  an 
important  part  in  the  village  life.  His  accomplish- 
ments were  numerous.  He  could  make  a  will,  survey 
or  convey  an  estate,  reduce  a  dislocation,  perform  the 
functions  of  a  parish  clerk,  lead  a  choir,  and  write  an 
ode.  This  remarkable  man  was  born  at  Eyam  in  1791, 
the  village  so  famous  for  the  story  of  its  plague,  in  an 
old  house  long  held  by  his  family.  Over  the  door  is 

CarV6d:  R.    I6l5.  F 

When  a  boy  he  was  very  fond  of  reading,  and 
studied  mathematics  and  poetry.  Don  Quixote  was  his 
favourite  romance.  His  father  would  not  allow  him  to 
read  at  night,  but  the  student  could  not  be  prevented 
from  studying  his  beloved  books.  In  order  to  prevent 
the  light  in  his  bedroom  from  being  seen  in  other 
parts  of  the  house,  he  placed  a  candle  in  a  large  box, 
knelt  by  its  side,  and  with  the  lid  half  closed  few  rays 
of  the  glimmering  taper  could  reach  the  window  or 
door.  When  he  grew  to  be  a  man  he  migrated  to 
Dore,  and  there  set  up  a  school,  and  began  that 
active  life  of  which  an  admirable  account  is  given  by 
Dr.  G.  Calvert  Holland  in  the  introduction  of  The 
Poetical  Works  of  Richard  Furness,  published  in  1858. 
In  addition  to  other  duties  he  sometimes  discharged 
clerical  functions.  The  vicar  of  the  parish  of  Dore, 


166  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Mr.  Parker,  was  somewhat  old  and  infirm,  and  some- 
times found  it  difficult  to  tramp  over  the  high  moors  in 
winter  to  privately  baptize  a  sick  child.  So  he  often  sent 
his  clerk  to  perform  the  duty.  On  dark  and  stormy 
nights  Richard  Furness  used  to  tramp  over  moor  and 
fell,  through  snow  and  rain  to  some  lonely  farm  or 
moorland  cottage  in  order  to  baptize  some  suffering 
infant.  On  one  occasion  he  omitted  to  ascertain  before 
commencing  the  service  whether  the  child  was  a  boy  or 
a  girl.  Turning  to  the  father  in  the  midst  of  a  prayer, 
when  the  question  whether  he  ought  to  use  his  or  her 
had  to  be  decided,  he  inquired,  "What  sex?"  The 
father,  an  ignorant  labourer,  did  not  understand  the 
meaning  of  the  question.  "  Male  or  female?"  asked 
the  clerk.  Still  the  father  did  not  comprehend.  At 
last  the  meaning  of  the  query  dawned  upon  his  rustic 
intelligence,  and  he  whispered,  "  It's  a  mon  childt." 

Thus  does  Richard  Furness  in  his  poems  describe 
his  many  duties : 

"  I  Richard  Furness,  schoolmaster,  Dore, 
Keep  parish  books  and  pay  the  poor ; 
Draw  plans  for  buildings  and  indite 
Letters  for  those  who  cannot  write  ;  "\ 

Make  wills  and  recommend  a  proctor  ; 
Cure  wounds,  let  blood  with  any  doctor ; 
Draw  teeth,  sing  psalms,  the  hautboy  play 
At  chapel  on  each  holy  day ; 
Paint  sign-boards,  cast  names  at  command, 
Survey  and  plot  estates  of  land  : 
Collect  at  Easter,  one  in  ten, 
And  on  the  Sunday  say  Amen." 

He  wrote  a  poem  entitled  Medicus  Magus,  or  the 
Astrologer,  a  droll  story  brimming  over  with  quiet 
humour,  folk-lore,  philology  and  archaic  lore.  Also 
The  Ragbag,  which  is  dedicated  to  "John  Bull,  Esq." 
The  style  of  his  poetry  was  Johnsonian,  or  after  the 


THE   CLERK   AS   A   POET  167 

manner  of  Erasmus  Darwin,  a  bard  whom  the  present 
generation  has  forgotten,  but  whose  Botanic  Garden, 
published  in  1825,  is  full  of  quaint  plant-lore  and 
classical  allusions,  if  it  does  not  reach  the  highest  form 
of  poetic  talent.  Here  is  a  poem  by  our  clerkly  poet 
on  the  Old  Year's  funeral : 

"The  clock  in  oblivion's  mouldering  tower 
By  the  raven's  nest  struck  the  midnight  hour, 
And  the  ghosts  of  the  seasons  wept  over  the  bier 
Of  Old  Time's  last  son — the  departing  year. 

"Spring  showered  her  daisies  and  dews  on  his  bed, 
Summer  covered  with  roses  his  shelterless  head, 
And  as  Autumn  embalmed  his  bodiless  form, 
Winter  wove  his  snow  shroud  in  his  Jacquard  of  storm  ; 
For  his  coffin-plate,  charged  with  a  common  device, 
Frost  figured  his  arms  on  a  tablet  of  ice, 
While  a  ray  from  the  sun  in  the  interim  came, 
And  daguerreotyped  neatly  his  age,  death,  and  name. 

Then  the  shadowing  months  at  call 

Stood  up  to  bear  the  pall, 

And  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  in  gloom 
Formed  a  vista  that  reached  from  his  birth  to  his  tomb. 
And  oh,  what  a  progeny  followed  in  tears — 
Hours,  minutes,  and  moments — the  children  of  years  ! 

Death  marshall'd  th'  array, 

Slowly  leading  the  way, 
With  his  darts  newly  fashioned  for  New  Year's  Day." 

Richard  Furness  died  in  1857,  and  was  buried  with 
his  ancestors  at  Eyam.  He  thus  sang  his  own  requiem 
shortly  before  he  passed  away  : 

"  To  joys  and  griefs,  to  hopes  and  fears, 

To  all  pride  would,  and  power  could  do, 
To  sorrow's  cup,  to  pity's  tears, 
To  mortal  life,  to  death  adieu." 

I  will  conclude  this  chapter  on  poetical  clerks  with  a 
sweet  carol  for  Advent,  written  by  Mr.  Daniel  Robin- 
son, ex-parish  clerk  of  Flore,  Weedon,  which  is  worthy 
of  preservation  : 


168  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

A  CAROL  FOR  ADVENT 
"  Behold,  thy  King  cometh  unto  thee."— MATTHEW  xxi.  5. 

Behold,  thy  King-  is  coming 

Upon  this  earth  to  reign, 
To  take  away  oppression 

And  break  the  captive's  chain  ; 
Then  trim  your  lamps,  ye  virgins, 

Your  oil  of  love  prepare, 
To  meet  the  coming  Bridegroom 

Triumphant  in  the  air. 

Behold,  thy  King  is  coming, 

Hark  !  'tis  the  midnight  cry, 
The  herald's  voice  proclaimeth 

The  hour  is  drawing  nigh  ; 
Then  go  ye  forth  to  meet  Him, 

With  lamps  all  burning  bright, 
Let  sweet  hosannahs  greet  Him, 

And  welcome  Him  aright. 

Go  decorate  your  churches 

With  evergreens  and  flowers, 
And  let  the  bells'  sweet  music 

Resound  from  all  your  towers  ; 
And  sing  your  sweetest  anthems, 

For  lo,  your  King  is  nigh, 
While  songs  of  praise  are  soaring 

O'er  vale  and  mountain  high. 

Let  sounds  of  heavenly  music 

From  sweet-voiced  organs  peal, 
While  old  and  young  assembling 

Before  God's  "  Altar  "  kneel ; 
In  humble  adoration 

Let  each  one  praise  and  pray, 
And  give  the  King  a  welcome 

This  coming  Christmas  Day. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE   CLERK   GIVING   OUT  NOTICES 

AFTER  the  Nicene  Creed  in  the  Book  of  Common 
JT\  Prayer  occurs  a  rubric  with  regard  to  the  giving 
out  of  notices,  the  observance  of  Holy-days  or  Feast- 
ing-days,  the  publication  of  Briefs,  Citations  and  Ex- 
communications, which  ends  with  the  following  words  : 

"And  nothing  shall  be  proclaimed  or  published  in 
the  Church,  during  the  time  of  Divine  Service,  but  by 
the  Minister ;  nor  by  him  any  thing  but  what  is  pre- 
scribed in  the  Rules  of  this  Book,  or  enjoined  by  the 
King  or  by  the  Ordinary  of  the  place." 

This  rubric  was  added  to  the  Prayer  Book  in  the 
revision  of  1662,  and  doubtless  was  intended  to  correct 
the  undesirable  practice  of  publishing  all  kinds  of 
secular  notices  during  the  time  of  divine  service. 
Dr.  Wickham  Legg  has  unearthed  an  inquiry  made 
in  an  archidiaconal  visitation  in  1630,  relating  to  the 
proclamation  of  lay  businesses  made  in  church,  when 
the  following  question  was  asked  : 

"  Whether  hath  your  Parish  Clerk,  or  any  other  in 
Prayers  time,  or  before  Prayers  or  Sermon  ended,  be- 
fore the  people  departed,  made  proclamation  in  your 
church  touching  any  goods  strayed  away  or  wanting, 
or  of  any  Leet  court  to  be  held,  or  of  common-dayes- 

169 


iyo  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

works  to  be  made,  or  touching  any  other  thing  which 
is  not  merely  ecclesiasticall,  or  a  Church-businesse  ?" 

In  times  of  Puritan  laxity  it  was  natural  that  notices 
sacred  and  profane  should  be  indiscriminately  mingled, 
and  the  rubric  mentioned  above  would  be  sorely  needed 
when  church  order  and  a  reverent  service  were  revived. 
But  in  spite  of  this  direction  the  practice  survived  of 
not  very  strictly  confining  the  notices  to  the  concerns 
of  the  Church. 

An  aged  lady,  Mrs.  Gill,  who  is  now  eighty-four 
years  of  age,  remembers  that  between  the  years  1825 
and  1835,  in  a  parish  church  near  Welbeck  Abbey,  the 
clerk  used  to  announce  the  date  of  the  Duke  of  Rut- 
land's rent-day.  Another  correspondent  states  that  after 
service  the  clerk  used  to  take  his  stand  on  one  of  the 
high  flat  tombstones  and  announce  sales  by  auction, 
the  straying  of  cattle,  etc.,  and  Sir  Walter  Scott  wrote 
that  at  Hexham  cattle-dealers  used  to  carry  their  busi- 
ness letters  to  the  church,  "  when  after  service  the 
clerk  was  accustomed  to  read  them  aloud  and  answer 
them  according  to  circumstances." 

Mr.  Beresford  Hope  recollected  that  in  a  Surrey  town 
church  the  notices  given  out  by  the  clerk  included  the 
announcement  of  the  meetings  at  the  principal  inn  of 
the  town  of  the  executors  of  a  deceased  duke. 

In  the  days  of  that  extraordinary  free-and-easy  go-as- 
you-please  style  of  service  which  prevailed  at  the  end 
of  the  eighteenth  and  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  the  most  extraordinary  announcements  were 
frequently  made  by  the  clerk,  and  very  numerous 
stories  are  told  of  the  laxity  of  the  times  and  the 
quaintness  of  the  remarks  of  the  clerk. 

An  old  Shropshire  clerk  gave  out  on  Easter  Day  the 
following  extraordinary  notice  : 


THE   CLERK   GIVING   OUT  NOTICES          171 

"  Last  Friday  was  Good  Friday,  but  we've  forgotten 
un  ;  so  next  Friday  will  be." 

Another  clerk  gave  out  a  strange  notice  on  Quinqua- 
gesima  Sunday  with  regard  to  the  due  observance  of 
Ash  Wednesday.  He  said  :  "  There  will  be  no  service 
on  Wednesday — 'coss  why?  Mester  be  going  hunt- 
ing, and  so  beeze  I  !"  with  triumphant  emphasis.  He 
is  not  the  only  sporting  clerk  of  whom  history  speaks, 
and  in  the  biographies  of  some  worthies  of  the  pro- 
fession we  hope  to  mention  the  achievements  of  a 
clerkly  tailor  who  denied  himself  every  luxury  of  life 
in  order  to  save  enough  money  to  buy  and  keep  a 
horse  in  order  that  he  might  follow  the  hounds  "  like 
a  gentleman." 

Sporting  parsons  have  furnished  quite  a  crop  of 
stories  with  regard  to  strange  notices  given  out  by 
their  clerks.  Some  of  them  are  well  known  and  have 
often  been  repeated  ;  but  perhaps  it  is  well  that  they 
should  not  be  omitted  here. 

About  the  year  1850  a  clerk  gave  out  in  his  rector's 
hearing  this  notice:  " There'll  be  no  service  next 
Sunday,  as  the  rector's  going  out  grouse-shooting." 

A  Devonshire  hunting  parson  went  to  help  a  neigh- 
bouring clergyman  in  the  old  days  when  all  kinds  of 
music  made  up  the  village  choir.  Unfortunately  some 
difficulty  arose  in  the  tuning  of  the  instruments.  The 
fiddles  and  bass-viol  would  not  accord,  and  the  parson 
grew  impatient.  At  last,  leaning  over  the  reading-desk 
and  throwing  up  his  arms,  he  shouted  out,  "Hark 
away,  Jack!  Hark  away,  Jack  I  Tally-ho!  Tally- 
ho!"1 

Another  clerk  caused  amusement  and  consternation 
in  a  south-country  parish  and  roused  the  rector's  wrath. 

1  Mumpits  and  Crumpits,  by  Sarah  Hewitt,  p.  175. 


172  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

The  young  rector,  who  was  of  a  sporting  turn  of  mind, 
told  him  that  he  wanted  to  get  to  Worthing  on  a 
Sunday  afternoon  in  time  for  the  races  which  began  on 
the  following  day,  and  that  therefore  there  would  be  no 
service.  This  was  explained  to  the  clerk  in  confidence. 
The  rector's  horror  may  be  imagined  when  he  heard 
him  give  out  in  loud  sonorous  tones  :  "  This  is  to  give 
notice,  no  suvviss  here  this  arternoon,  becos  measter 
meyans  to  get  to  Worthing  to-night  to  be  in  good 
toime  for  reayces  to-morrow  mornin'." 

Old  Moody,  of  Redbourn,  Herts,  was  a  typical  parish 
clerk,  and  his  vicar,  Lord  Frederick  Beauclerk,  and  the 
curate,  the  Rev.  W.  S.  Wade,  were  both  hunting 
parsons  of  the  old  school.  One  Sunday  morning 
Moody  announced,  just  before  giving  out  the  hymn,  that 
"the  vicar  was  going  on  Friday  to  the  throwing  off  of 
the  Leicestershire  hounds,  and  could  not  return  home 
until  Monday  next  week  ;  therefore  next  Sunday  there 
would  not  be  any  service  in  the  church  on  that  day." 
Moody  was  quite  one  of  the  leading  characters  of  the 
place,  whose  words  and  opinions  were  law. 

No  one  in  those  days  thought  of  disputing  the  right 
or  questioning  the  conduct  of  a  rector  closing  the 
church,  and  abandoning  the  accustomed  services  on  a 
Sunday,  in  order  to  keep  a  sporting  engagement. 

That  other  notice  about  the  fishing  parson  is  well 
known.  The  clerk  announced:  "This  is  to  gi  notus, 
there  won't  be  no  surviss  here  this  arternoon  becos 
parson's  going  fishing  in  the  next  parish."  When  he 
was  remonstrated  with  after  service  for  giving  out  such 
a  strange  notice,  he  replied  : 

"  Parson  told  I  so  'fore  church." 

"Surely  he  said  officiating — not  fishing?"  said  his 
monitor.  "The  bishop  would  not  be  pleased  to  hear 


THE   CLERK   GIVING   OUT   NOTICES          173 

of  one  of  his  clergy  going  fishing  on  a  Sunday  after- 
noon." 

The  clerk  was  not  convinced,  and  made  a  clever 
defence,  grounded  on  the  employment  of  some  of  the 
Apostles.  The  reader's  imagination  will  supply  the 
gist  of  the  argument. 

Another  rector,  who  had  lost  his  favourite  setter,  told 
his  clerk  to  make  inquiries  about  it,  but  was  much 
astonished  to  hear  him  give  it  out  as  a  notice  in  church, 
coupled  with  the  offer  of  a  reward  of  three  pounds  if 
the  dog  should  be  restored  to  his  owner. 

The  clerk  of  the  sporting  parson  was  often  quite  as 
keen  as  his  master  in  following  the  chase.  It  was  not 
unusual  for  rectors  to  take  "occasional  services," 
weddings  or  funerals,  on  the  way  to  a  meet,  wearing 
"pink"  under  their  surplices.  A  wedding  was  pro- 
ceeding in  a  Devonshire  church,  and  when  the  happy 
pair  were  united  and  the  Psalm  was  just  about  to  be 
said,  the  clerk  called  out,  "  Please  to  make  'aste,  sir,  or 
he'll  be  gone  afore  you  have  done."  The  parson 
nodded  and  looked  inquiringly  at  the  clerk,  who  said, 
"  He's  turned  into  the  vuzz  bushes  down  in  ten  acres. 
Do  look  sharp,  sir."1 

The  story  is  told  of  a  rector  who,  when  walking  to 
church  across  the  squire's  park  during  a  severe  winter, 
found  a  partridge  apparently  frozen  to  death.  He 
placed  the  poor  bird  in  the  voluminous  pocket  of  his 
coat.  During  the  service  the  warmth  of  the  rector's 
pocket  revived  the  bird  and  thawed  it  back  to  life  ; 
and  when  during  the  sermon  the  rector  pulled  out  his 

1  This  story  is  told  by  Mrs.  Hewett  in  her  Peasant  Speech  of  Devon, 
but  I  have  ventured  to  anglicise  the  broad  Devonshire  a  little,  and  to 
suggest  that  the  scene  could  scarcely  have  taken  place  on  a  Sunday 
morning,  as  Mrs.  Hewett  suggests  in  her  admirable  book. 


i74  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

handkerchief,  the  revived  bird  flew  vigorously  away 
towards  the  west  end  of  the  church.  The  clerk,  who  sat 
in  his  seat  below,  was  not  unaccustomed  to  the  task  of 
beating  for  the  squire's  shooting  parties,  called  out 
lustily  : 

"It  be  all  right,  sir;  I've  marked  him  down  in  the 
belfry." 

The  fame  of  the  Rev.  John  Russell,  the  sporting 
parson  of  Swymbridge,  is  widespread,  and  his  parish 
clerk,  William  Chappie,  is  also  entitled  to  a  small 
niche  beneath  the  statue  of  the  great  man.  The 
curate  had  left,  and  Mr.  Russell  inserted  the  following 
advertisement : 

"  Wanted,  a  curate  for  Swymbridge;  must  be  a 
gentleman  of  moderate  and  orthodox  views." 

The  word  orthodox  rather  puzzled  the  inhabitants  of 
Swymbridge,  who  asked  Chappie  what  it  meant.  The 
clerk  did  not  know,  but  was  unwilling  to  confess  such 
ignorance,  and  knowing  his  master's  predilections, 
replied,  "I  'spects  it  be  a  chap  as  can  ride  well  to 
hounds." 

The  strangest  notice  ever  given  out  in  church  that  I 
ever  have  heard  of,  related  to  a  set  of  false  teeth.  The 
story  has  been  told  by  many.  Perhaps  Cuthbert  Bede's 
version  is  the  best.  An  old  rector  of  a  small  country 
parish  had  been  compelled  to  send  to  a  dentist  his  set 
of  false  teeth,  in  order  that  some  repairs  might  be 
made.  The  dentist  had  faithfully  promised  to  send  them 
back  "by  Saturday,"  but  the  Saturday's  post  did  not 
bring  the  box  containing  the  rector's  teeth.  There  was 
no  Sunday  post,  and  the  village  was  nine  miles  from 
the  post  town.  The  dentist,  it  afterwards  appeared, 
had  posted  the  teeth  on  the  Saturday  afternoon  with 
the  full  conviction  that  their  owner  would  receive  them 


THE    CLERK    GIVING   OUT   NOTICES          175 

on  Sunday  morning  in  time  for  service.  The  old 
rector  bravely  tried  to  do  that  duty  which  England 
expects  every  man  to  do,  more  especially  if  he  is  a 
parson  and  if  it  be  Sunday  morning  ;  but  after  he  had 
mumbled  through  the  prayers  with  equal  difficulty  and 
incoherency,  he  decided  that  it  would  be  advisable  to 
abandon  any  further  attempts  to  address  his  congrega- 
tion on  that  day.  While  the  hymn  was  being  sung 
he  summoned  his  clerk  to  the  vestry,  and  then  said  to 
him,  "It  is  quite  useless  for  me  to  attempt  to  go  on. 
The  fact  is,  that  my  dentist  has  not  sent  me  back  my 
artificial  teeth  ;  and  as  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  make 
myself  understood,  you  must  tell  the  congregation 
that  the  service  is  ended  for  this  morning,  and  that 
there  will  be  no  service  this  afternoon."  The  old  clerk 
went  back  to  his  desk  ;  the  singing  of  the  hymn  was 
brought  to  an  end  ;  and  the  rector,  from  his  retreat  in 
the  vestry,  heard  the  clerk  address  the  congregation  as 
follows : 

"This  is  to  give  notice!  as  there  won't  be  no 
sarmon,  nor  no  more  service  this  mornin',  so  you'd 
better  all  go  whum  (home) ;  and  there  won't  be  no 
sarvice  this  afternoon,  as  the  rector  ain't  got  his  artful 
teeth  back  from  the  dentist ! " 

This  story  so  amused  George  Cruikshank  that  he 
wanted  to  make  an  illustration  of  it.  But  the  journal 
in  which  it  ought  to  have  appeared  was  very  short- 
lived. Hence  Cruikshank's  drawing  was  lost  to  the 
world. 

The  clerk  is  a  firm  upholder  of  established  custom. 
"We  will  now  sing  the  evening  hymn,"  said  the  rector 
of  an  East  Anglian  church  in  the  sixties.  "No,  sir, 
it's  doxology  to-night."  The  preacher  again  said, 
"We'll  sing  the  evening  hymn."  The  clerk,  how- 


176  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

ever,  persisted,  " It's  doxology  to-night";  and  doxology 
it  was,  in  spite  of  the  parson's  protests. 

In  the  days  when  parish  notices  with  reference  to  the 
lost,  stolen,  or  strayed  animals  were  read  out  in  church 
at  the  commencement  of  the  service,  the  clerk  of  a 
church  [my  informant  has  forgotten  the  name  of  the 
parish]  rose  in  his  place  and  said  : 

"This  is  to  give  notice  that  my  Lady has  lost 

her  little  dog ;  he  comes  to  the  name  of  Shock ;  he  is 
all  white  except  two  patches  of  black  on  his  sides 
and  he  has  got — eh? — what? — yes — no — upon  my  soul 
he  has  got  four  eyes  !  "  It  should  have  been  sore  eyes, 
but  the  long  .$•  had  misled  the  clerk. 

The  clerk  does  not  always  shine  as  an  orator,  but 
a  correspondent  who  writes  from  the  Charterhouse  can 
vouch  for  the  following  effort  of  one  who  lived  in  a 
village  not  a  hundred  miles  from  Harrow  about  thirty 
years  ago. 

There  was  a  tea  for  the  school  children,  at  which  the 
clerk,  a  farm  labourer,  spoke  thus:  "  You  know,  my 
friends,  that  if  we  wants  to  get  a  good  crop  of  anything 
we  dungs  the  ground.  Now  what  I  say  is,  if  we  wants 
our  youngsters  to  crop  properly,  we  must  see  that  they 
are  properly  dunged — put  the  laming  into  them  like 
dung,  and  they'll  do  all  right." 

The  subject  of  the  Disestablishment  of  the  Church 
was  scarcely  contemplated  by  a  clerk  in  the  diocese 
of  Peterborough,  who,  after  the  amalgamation  of  two 
parishes,  stated  that  he  was  desired  by  the  vicar  to 
announce  that  the  services  in  each  parish  would  be 
morning  and  evening  to  all  eternity.  It  is  thought 
that  he  meant  to  say  alternately. 

I  have  often  referred  to  the  ancient  clerkly  method 
of  giving  out  the  hymns.  It  was  a  terrible  blow  to  the 


THE   CLERK   GIVING  OUT   NOTICES          177 

: 

clerk  when  the   parsons  began  to   interfere  with   his 

prerogative  and  give  out  the  hymns  themselves.  All 
clerks  did  not  revenge  themselves  on  the  usurpers  of 

[their  ancient  right  as  did  one  of  their  number,  who 
was  very  indignant  when  a  strange  clergyman  insisted 
on  giving  out  the  hymns  himself.  In  due  course  he 
gave  out  "the  fifty-third  hymn,"  when  out  popped  the 

(old  clerk's  head  from  under  the  red  curtains  which 
hung  round  the  gallery,  and  which  gave  him  the  ap- 
pearance of  wearing  a  nightcap,  and  he  shouted, 
''That  a  baint !  A  be  the  varty-zeventh." 

The  following  account  of  a  notice,  which  was 
scarcely  authorised,  shows  the  homely  manners  of 
former  days.  It  was  at  Sapiston  Church,  a  small 
village  on  the  Duke  of  Grafton's  estate.  The  grand- 
father of  the  present  Duke  was  returning  from  a  shoot- 
ing expedition,  and  was  passing  the  church  on  Sunday 
afternoon  while  service  was  going  on.  The  Duke 
quietly  entered  the  vestry,  and  signed  to  the  clerk  to 
come  to  him.  The  Duke  gave  the  man  a  hare,  and 
told  him  to  put  it  into  the  parson's  trap,  and  give  a 
complimentary  message  about  it  at  the  end  of  the 
service.  But  the  clerk,  knowing  his  master  would  be 
pleased  at  the  little  attention,  could  not  refrain  from 
delivering  both  hare  and  message  at  once  before  the 
whole  congregation.  At  the  close  of  the  hymn  before 
the  sermon  he  marched  into  a  prominent  position  hold- 
ing up  the  gift,  and  shouted  out,  "  His  Grace's  com- 
pliments, and,  please  sir,  he's  sent  ye  a  hare." 

In  giving  out  the  hymns  or  Psalms  many  difficulties 
of  pronunciation  would  often  arise.  One  clerk  had 
many  struggles  over  the  line,  "  Awed  by  Thy  gracious 
word."  He  could  not  manage  that  tiresome  first  word, 
and  always  called  it  "a  wed."  The  old  metrical  version 

N 


178  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

of  the  Psalm,  "  Like  as  the  hart  desireth  the  water- 
brooks,"  etc.  is  still  with  us,  and  a  beautiful  hymn 
it  is : 

"As  pants  the  hart  for  cooling  streams 
When  heated  in  the  chase." 

A  Northumbrian  clerk  used  to  give  out  the  words 
thus  : 

"  As  pants  the  "art  for  coolin"  streams 
When  'eated  in  the  chaise," 

which  seems  to  foreshadow  the  triumph  of  modern 
civilisation,  the  carted  deer,  a  mode  of  stag-hunting 
that  was  scarcely  contemplated  by  Tate  and  Brady. 


CHAPTER    XIV 
SLEEPY  CHURCH   AND   SLEEPY   CLERKS 

THERE  was  a  time  when  the  Church  of  England 
seemed  to  be  asleep.  Perhaps  it  may  have  been 
that  "tired  nature's  sweet  restorer,  balmy  sleep,"  was 
only  preparing  her  exhausted  energies  for  the  un- 
wonted activities  of  the  last  half-century  ;  or  was  it  the 
sleep  that  presaged  death?  Her  enemies  told  her  so  in 
plain  and  unvarnished  language.  Her  friends,  too, 
said  that  she  was  folding  her  robes  to  die  with  what 
dignity  she  could.  Lethargy,  sloth,  sleep — a  dead,  dull, 
dreary  sleep — fell  like  a  leaden  pall  upon  her  spiritual 
life,  darkening  the  light  that  shone  but  vaguely 
through  the  storied  panes  of  her  mediaeval  windows, 
while  a  paralysing  numbness  crippled  her  limbs  and 
quenched  her  activity. 

Such  scenes  as  Archbishop  Benson  describes  as 
his  early  recollection  of  Upton,  near  Droitwich,  were 
not  uncommon.  The  church  was  aisleless,  and  the 
middle  passage,  with  high  pews  on  each  side,  led  up 
to  the  chancel-arch,  in  which  was  a  " three-decker," 
fifteen  feet  high.  The  clerk  wore  a  wig  and  immense 
horn  spectacles.  He  was  a  shoemaker,  dressed  in 
black,  with  a  white  tie.  In  the  gallery  sat  "the 
music" — a  clarionet,  flute,  violin,  and  'cello.  The 
clerk  gave  out  the  "Twentieth  Psalm  of  David,"  and 

179 


i8o  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

the  fiddlers  tuned  for  a  moment  and  then  played  at 
once.  Then  they  struck  up,  and  the  clerk,  absolutely 
alone,  in  a  majestic  voice  which  swayed  up  and  down 
without  regard  to  time  or  tune,  sang  it  through  like 
the  braying  of  an  ass ;  not  a  soul  else  joined  in  ;  the 
farmers  amused  and  smiling  at  each  other.  Such 
scenes  were  quite  usual. 

In  Cornwall  affairs  were  worse.  In  one  church  the 
curate-in-charge  had  to  be  chained  to  the  altar  rails 
while  he  read  the  service,  as  he  had  a  harmless  mania, 
which  made  him  suddenly  flee  from  the  church  if  his 
own  activities  were  for  an  instant  suspended,  as,  for 
example,  by  a  response.  The  churchwarden,  a  farmer, 
kept  the  padlock-key  in  his  pocket  till  the  service  was 
safely  over,  and  then  released  the  imprisoned  cleric. 
At  another  Cornish  church  the  vicar's  sister  used  to 
read  the  lessons  in  a  deep  bass  voice. 

Congregations  were  often  very  sparse.  Few  people 
attended,  and  perhaps  none  on  weekdays,  unless  the 
clerk  was  in  his  place.  On  such  occasions  the  parson 
was  tempted  to  emulate  the  humour  of  Dean  Swift, 
who  at  the  first  weekday  service  that  he  held  after  his 
appointment  to  the  living  of  Laracor,  in  the  diocese  of 
Meath,  after  waiting  for  some  time  in  vain  for  a  con- 
gregation, began  the  service,  addressing  his  clerk, 
"Dearly  beloved  Roger,  the  scripture  moveth  you 
and  me  in  sundry  places,"  etc. 

When  the  Psalms  were  read,  you  heard  the  first 
verse  read  in  a  mellifluous  and  cultured  voice.  Per- 
haps it  was  the  evening  of  the  twenty-eighth  day  of 
the  month,  and  you  listened  to  the  sacred  words  of 
Psalm  cxxxvii.,  "  By  the  waters  of  Babylon  we  sat 
down  and  wept,  when  we  remembered  thee,  O  Sion." 
Then  followed  a  bellow  from  a  raucous  throat:  "  Has 


SLEEPY  CHURCH  AND  SLEEPY  CLERKS     181 

fur  ur  'arp,  we  'anged  'em  hup  hupon  the  trees  that 
hare  thurin."  And  then  at  the  end  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  after  every  one  had  finished,  the  same  voice 
came  drowsily  cantering  in:  "For  hever  and  hever, 
Haymen."  Sometimes  we  heard,  "  Let  us  sing  to  the 
praise  and  glory  of  God  the  'undred  and  sixtieth 
Psalm — 'Ymn  'ooever."  The  numbers  of  the  hymns 
or  Psalms  were  scored  on  the  two  sides  of  a  slate. 
Sometimes  the  functionary  in  the  gallery  forgot  to 
turn  the  slate  after  the  first  hymn.  "  Let  us  sing," 

began  the  clerk — (pause) "  Turn  the  slate,  will 

you,  if  you  please,  Master  Scroomes?"  he  continued, 
addressing  the  neglectful  person. 

The  singing  was  no  mechanical  affair  of  official  rou- 
tine— it  was  a  drama.  "As  the  moment  of  psalmody 
approached  a  slate  appeared  in  front  of  the  gallery, 
advertising  in  bold  characters  the  Psalm  about  to  be 
sung.  The  clerk  gave  out  the  Psalm,  and  then 
migrated  to  the  gallery,  where  in  company  with  a 
bassoon  and  two  key-bugles,  a  carpenter  understood 
to  have  an  amazing  power  of  singing  'countermand 
two  lesser  musical  stars,  formed  the  choir.  Hymns 
were  not  known.  The  New  Version  was  regarded 
with  melancholy  tolerance.  '  Sternhold  and  Hopkins ' 
formed  the  main  source  of  musical  tastes.  On  great 
occasions  the  choir  sang  an  anthem,  in  which  the  key- 
bugles  always  ran  away  at  a  great  pace,  while  the 
bassoon  every  now  and  then  boomed  a  flying  shot 
after  them."  It  was  all  very  curious,  very  quaint, 
very  primitive.  The  Church  was  asleep,  and  cared 
not  to  disturb  the  relics  of  old  crumbling  inefficiency. 
The  Church  was  asleep,  the  congregation  slept,  and 
the  clerk  often  slept  too. 

Hogarth's  engraving  of  The  Sleeping  Congregation 


i82  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

is  a  parable  of  the  state  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land in  his  day.  It  is  a  striking  picture  truly.  The 
parson  is  delivering  a  long  and  drowsy  discourse  on 
the  text:  "  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that  labour,  and 
I  will  give  you  rest."  The  congregation  is  certainly 
resting,  and  the  pulpit  bears  the  appropriate  verse  : 
"lam  afraid  of  you,  lest  I  have  bestowed  upon  you 
labour  in  vain."  The  clerk  is  attired  in  his  cassock 
and  bands,  contrives  to  keep  one  eye  awake  during 
the  sermon,  and  this  wakeful  eye  rests  upon  a  comely 
fat  matron,  who  is  fast  asleep,  and  has  evidently  been 
meditating  "on  matrimony,"  as  her  open  book  de- 
clares. A  sleepy  church,  sleepy  congregation,  sleepy 
times  ! 

Many  stories  are  told  of  dull  and  sleepy  clerks. 

A  canon  of  a  northern  cathedral  tells  me  of  one 
such  clerk,  whose  duty  it  was,  when  the  rector  finished 
his  sermon,  to  say  "Amen."  On  a  summer  afternoon, 
this  aged  official  was  overtaken  with  drowsiness,  and 
as  soon  as  the  clergyman  had  given  out  his  text,  slept 
the  sleep  of  the  just.  Sermons  in  former  years  were 
remarkable  for  their  length  and  many  divisions. 

After  the  "firstly"  was  concluded,  the  preacher 
paused.  The  clerk,  suddenly  awaking,  thought  that 
the  discourse  was  concluded,  and  pronounced  his 
usual  "Arummen."  The  congregation  rose,  and  the 
service  came  to  a  close.  As  the  gathering  dispersed, 
the  squire  slipped  half  a  crown  into  the  clerk's  hand, 
and  whispered:  "Thomas,  you  managed  that  very 
well,  and  deserve  a  little  present.  I  will  give  you  the 
same  next  time." 

At  Eccleshall,  near  Sheffield,  the  clerk,  named 
Thompson,  had  been,  in  the  days  of  his  youth,  a  good 
cricketer,  and  always  acted  as  umpire  for  the  village 


THE  SLEEPING  CONGREGATION 

BY    HOCAKVH 


SLEEPY  CHURCH  AND  SLEEPY  CLERKS     183 

team.  One  hot  Sunday  morning,  the  sermon  being 
very  long,  old  Thompson  fell  asleep.  His  dream  was 
of  his  favourite  game  ;  for  when  the  parson  finished 
his  discourse  and  waited  for  the  clerk's  "Amen,"  old 
Thompson  awoke,  and,  to  the  amazement  of  the  con- 
gregation, shouted  out  "Over!"  After  all,  he  was 
no  worse  than  the  cricketing  curate  who,  after  reading 
the  first  lessq£,  announced:  "Here  endeth  the  first 
innings." 

Every  one  has  heard  of  that  Irish  clerk  who  used 
to  snore  so  loudly  during  the  sermon  that  he  drowned 
the  parson's  voice.  The  old  vicar,  being  of  a  good- 
natured  as  well  as  a  somewhat  humorous  turn  of  mind, 
devised  a  plan  for  arousing  his  lethargic  clerk.  He 
provided  himself  with  a  box  of  hard  peas,  and  when 
the  well-known  snore  echoed  through  the  church,  he 
quietly  dropped  one  of  the  peas  on  the  head  of  the 
offender,  who  was  at  once  aroused  to  the  sense  of  his 
duties,  and  uttered  a  loud  "Amen." 

This  plan  acted  admirably  for  a  time,  but  unfortun- 
ately the  parson  was  one  day  carried  away  by  his 
eloquence,  gesticulated  wildly,  and  dropped  the  whole 
box  of  peas  on  the  head  of  the  unfortunate  clerk. 
The  result  was  such  a  strenuous  chorus  of  "Amens," 
that  the  laughter  of  the  congregation  could  not  be 
restrained,  and  the  peas  were  abolished  and  consigned 
to  the  limbo  of  impractical  inventions.  Possibly  the 
story  may  be  an  invention  too. 

One  of  the  causes  which  tended  to  the  unpopularity 
of  the  Church  was  the  accession  of  George  IV  to  the 
throne  of  England.  "Church  and  King"  were  so 
closely  connected  in  the  mind  of  the  people  that  the 
sins  of  the  monarch  were  visited  on  the  former,  and 
deemed  to  have  brought  some  discredit  on  it.  More- 


1 84  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

over,  the  King  by  his  first  act  placed  the  loyal  members 
of  the  Church  in  some  difficulty,  and  that  was  the  order 
to  expunge  the  name  of  the  ill-used,  if  erring,  Queen 
Caroline  from  the  Prayers  for  the  Royal  Family  in  the 
Book  of  Common  Prayer. 

One  good  clergyman,  Dr.  Parr,  vicar  of  Hatton, 
placed  an  interesting  record  in  his  Prayer  Book  after 
the  required  erasure  :  "  It  is  my  duty  as  a  subject  and 
as  an  ecclesiastic  to  read  what  is  prescribed  by  my 
Sovereign  as  head  of  the  Church,  but  it  is  not  my 
duty  to  express  my  approbation."  The  sympathy  of 
the  people  was  with  the  injured  Queen,  and  they  knew 
not  how  much  the  clergy  agreed  with  them.  During 
the  trial  popular  excitement  ran  high.  In  a  Berkshire 
village  the  parish  clerk  ''improved  the  occasion"  by 
giving  out  in  church  "the  first,  fourth,  eleventh,  and 
twelfth  verses  of  the  thirty-fifth  Psalm  "  in  Tate  and 
Brady's  New  Version  : 

"  False  witnesses  with  forged  complaints 

Against  my  truth  combined, 
And  to  my  charge  such  things  they  laid 
As  I  had  ne'er  designed." 

These  words  he  sang  most  lustily. 

Cowper  mentions  a  similar  application  of  psalmody 
to  political  affairs  in  his  Task  : 

"  So  in  the  chapel  of  old  Ely  House 
When  wandering  Charles  who  meant  to  be  the  third, 
Had  fled  from  William,  and  the  news  was  fresh, 
The  simple  clerk,  but  loyal,  did  announce, 
And  eke  did  rear  right  merrily,  two  staves 
Sung  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  King  George." 

It  was  not  an  unusual  thing  for  a  parish  clerk  to 
select  a  psalm  suited  to  the  occasion  when  any  special 
excitement  gave  him  an  opportunity.  Branston,  the 
satirist,  in  his  Art  of  Politicks  published  in  1729, 


SLEEPY  CHURCH  AND  SLEEPY  CLERKS     185 

alluded  to  this  misapplication  of  psalmody  occasionally 
made  by  parish  clerks  in  the  lines  : 

"  Not  long  since  parish  clerks  with  saucy  airs 
Apply'd  King  David's  psalms  to  State  affairs." 

In  order  to  avoid  this  unfortunate  habit,  a  country 
rector  in  Devonshire  compiled  in  1725  "Twenty-six 
Psalms  of  Thanksgiving,  Praise,  Love,  and  Glory,  for 
the  use  of  a  parish  church,  with  the  omission  of  all  the 
imprecatory  psalms,  lest  a  parish  clerk  or  any  other 
should  be  whetting  his  spleen,  or  obliging  his  spite, 
when  he  should  be  entertaining  his  devotion." 

Sometimes  the  clerks  ventured  to  apply  the  verses  of 
the  Psalms  to  their  own  private  needs  and  require- 
ments, so  as  to  convey  gentle  hints  and  suggestions 
to  the  ears  of  those  who  could  supply  their  needs. 
Canon  Ridgeway  tells  of  the  old  clerk  of  the  Church 
of  King  Charles  the  Martyr  at  Tunbridge  Wells.  His 
name  was  Jenner.  He  was  a  well-known  character ; 
he  used  to  have  a  pipe  and  pitch  the  tune,  and  also 
select  the  hymns.  It  was  commonly  said  that  the  con- 
gregation always  knew  when  the  lodgings  in  his  house 
on  Mount  Sion  were  unlet ;  for  when  this  was  the  case 
he  was  wont  to  give  out  the  Psalm  : 

"  Mount  Sion  is  a  pleasant  place  to  dwell." 

At  Great  Yarmouth,  until  about  the  year  1850,  the 
parish  clerk  was  always  invited  to  the  banquets  or 
"feasts"  given  by  the  corporation  of  the  borough; 
and  he  was  honoured  annually  with  a  card  of  invita- 
tion to  the  "mayor's  feast"  on  Michaelmas  Day.  On 
one  occasion  the  mayor-elect  had  omitted  to  send  a 
card  to  the  clerk,  Mr.  David  Absolon,  who  was  clerk 
from  1811  to  1831,  and  had  been  a  member  of  the 
corporation  and  common  councillor  previous  to  his 


186  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

appointment  to  his  ecclesiastical  office.  On  the  follow- 
ing Sunday,  Master  David  Absolon  reminded  his 
worship  of  his  remissness  by  giving  out  the  following 
verse,  directing  his  voice  at  the  same  time  to  the 
mayor-elect :  <(  Let  David  his  accustomed  place 

In  thy  remembrance  find." 

The  words  in  Tate  and  Brady's  metrical  version  of 
Psalm  cxxxii.  run  thus  : 

"  Let  David,  Lord,  a  constant  place 
In  Thy  remembrance  find."  1 

In  the  same  town  great  excitement  used  to  attend  the 
election  of  the  mayor  on  29  August  in  each  year. 
Before  the  election  the  corporation  attended  service  in 
the  parish  church,  and  the  clerk  on  these  occasions 
gave  out  for  singing  ' ( the  first  two  staves  of  the  fifteenth 

Psalm  :  «  Lord>  who-s  the  happy  man,"  etc. 

The  passing  of  the  Municipal  Act  changed  the 
manner  and  time  of  the  election,  but  it  did  not  take 
away  the  interest  felt  in  the  event.  As  long  as  Tate 
and  Brady's  version  of  the  Psalms  was  used  in  the 
church,  that  is  until  the  year  1840,  these  "two  staves" 
were  annually  sung  on  the  Sunday  preceding  the 
election.2 

In  these  days  of  reverent  worship  it  seems  hardly 
possible  that  the  beautiful  expressions  in  the  psalms  of 
praise  to  Almighty  God  should  ever  have  been  prosti- 
tuted to  the  baser  purposes  of  private  gain  or  muni- 
cipal elections. 

Sleepy  times  and  sleepy  clerks — and  yet  these  were 
not  always  sleepy  ;  in  fact,  far  too  lively,  riotous,  and 
unruly.  At  least,  so  the  poor  rector  of  Hayes  found 

1  History  of  St.  Nicholas'  Church,  Great  Yarmouth,  by  the  present 
Clerk,  Mr.  Edward  J.  Lupson,  p.  24.  2  Ibid,,  p.  23. 


SLEEPY  CHURCH  AND  SLEEPY  CLERKS     187 

them  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Such 
conduct  in  church  is  scarcely  credible  as  that  which 
was  witnessed  in  this  not  very  remote  parish  church  in 
not  very  remote  times.  The  registers  of  the  parish  of 
Hayes  tell  the  story  in  plain  language.  On  18  March, 
1749,  "the  clerk  gave  out  the  iooth  Psalm,  and  the 
singers  immediately  opposed  him,  and  sung  the  15th, 
and  bred  a  disturbance.  The  clerk  then  ceased."  Poor 
man,  what  else  could  he  have  done,  with  a  company  of 
brawling,  bawling  singers  shouting  at  him  from  the 
gallery  !  On  another  occasion  affairs  were  worse,  the 
ringers  and  others  disturbing  the  service,  from  the 
beginning  of  the  service  to  the  end  of  the  sermon,  by 
ringing  the  bells  and  going  into  the  gallery  to  spit 
below.  On  another  occasion  a  fellow  came  into 
church  with  a  pot  of  beer  and  a  pipe,  and  remained 
smoking  in  his  pew  until  the  end  of  the  sermon.1  O 
temporal  O  mores!  as  some  disconsolate  clergymen 
wrote  in  their  registers  when  the  depravity  of  the  times 
was  worse  than  usual.  The  slumbering  congregation 
of  Hogarth's  picture  would  have  been  a  comfort  to  the 
distracted  parson. 

To  prevent  people  from  sleeping  during  the  long 
sermons  a  special  officer  was  appointed,  in  order  to 
banish  slumber  when  the  parson  was  long  in  preach- 
ing. This  official  was  called  a  sluggard-waker,  and 
was  usually  our  old  friend  the  parish  clerk  with  a  new 
title.  Several  persons,  perhaps  reflecting  in  their  last 
moments  on  all  the  good  advice  which  they  had  missed 
through  slumbering  during  sermon  time,  have  be- 
queathed money  for  the  support  of  an  officer  who 
should  perambulate  the  church,  and  call  to  attention 

1  Antiquary,  vol.  xviii,  p.  65.  Quoted  in  Social  Life  as  fold  by  Parish 
Registers,  p.  54. 


i88  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

any  one  who,  through  sleep,  was  missing  the  preacher's 
timely  admonition.  Richard  Dovey,  of  Farmcote,  in 
1659  left  property  at  Claverley,  Shropshire,  with  the 
condition  that  eight  shillings  should  be  paid  to,  and  a 
room  provided  for,  a  poor  man,  who  should  undertake 
to  awaken  sleepers,  and  to  whip  out  dogs  from  the 
church  of  Claverley  during  divine  service.1 

John  Rudge,  of  Trysull,  Staffordshire,  left  a  like 
bequest  to  a  poor  man  to  go  about  the  parish  church 
of  Trysull  during  sermon  to  keep  people  awake,  and 
to  keep  dogs  out  of  church.2  Ten  shillings  a  year  is 
paid  by  a  tenant  of  Sir  John  Bridges,  at  Chislett,  Kent, 
as  a  charge  on  lands  called  Dog-whipper's  Marsh,  to  a 
person  for  keeping  order  in  the  church  during  service,3 
and  from  time  immemorial  an  acre  of  land  at  Peter- 
church,  Herefordshire,  was  appropriated  to  the  use  of 
a  person  for  keeping  dogs  out  of  church,  such  person 
being  appointed  by  the  minister  and  churchwardens. 

Mr.  W.  Andrews,  Librarian  of  the  Hull  Institute, 
has  collected  in  his  Curiosities  of  the  Church  much  infor- 
mation concerning  sluggard-wakers  and  dog-whippers. 
The  clerk  in  one  church  used  a  long  staff,  at  one  end  of 
which  was  a  fox's  brush  for  gently  arousing  a  somno- 
lent female,  while  at  the  other  end  was  a  knob  for  a 
more  forcible  awakening  of  a  male  sleeper.  The  Dun- 
church  sluggard-waker  used  a  stout  wand  with  a  fork 
at  the  end  of  it.  During  the  sermon  he  stepped 
stealthily  up  and  down  the  nave  and  aisles  and  into  the 
gallery  marking  down  his  prey.  And  no  one  resented 
his  forcible  awakenings. 

The  sluggard-waker  and  dog-whipper  appear  in 
many  old  churchwardens'  account-books.  Thus  in  the 

1  Old  English  Customs  and  Curious  Bequests,  S.  H.  Edwards  (1842), 
p.  220.  2  Ibid.,  p.  221.  3  Ibid.,  p.  222. 


SLEEPY  CHURCH  AND  SLEEPY  CLERKS     189 

accounts  of  Barton-on-H umber  there  is  an  entry  for  the 
year  1740:  "Paid  Brocklebank  for  waking  sleepers 
2S.  o."  At  Castleton  the  officer  in  1722  received 
IQS.  o.1  The  clerk  in  his  capacity  of  dog-whipper  had 
often  arduous  duties  to  perform  in  the  old  dale  churches 
of  Yorkshire  when  farmers  and  shepherds  frequently 
brought  their  dogs  to  church.  The  animals  usually  lay 
very  quietly  beneath  their  masters'  seat,  but  occasionally 
there  would  be  a  scrimmage  and  fight,  and  the  clerk's 
staff  was  called  into  play  to  beat  the  dogs  and  produce 
order. 

Why  dogs  should  have  been  ruthlessly  and  relent- 
lessly whipped  out  of  churches  I  can  scarcely  tell.  The 
Highland  shepherd's  dog  usually  lies  contentedly  under 
his  master's  seat  during  a  long  service,  and  even  an 
archbishop's  collie,  named  Watch,  used  to  be  very  still 
and  well-behaved  during  the  daily  service,  only  once 
being  roused  to  attention  and  a  stately  progress  to  the 
lectern  by  the  sound  of  his  master's  voice  reading  the 
verse  "  I  say  unto  all,  Watch."  But  our  ancestors  made 
war  against  dogs  entering  churches.  In  mediaeval  and 
Elizabethan  times  such  does  not  seem  to  have  been  the 
case,  as  one  of  the  duties  of  the  clerks  in  those  days 
was  to  make  the  church  clean  from  the  "  shomeryng  of 
dogs."  The  nave  of  the  church  was  often  used  for 
secular  purposes,  and  dogs  followed  their  masters. 
Mastiffs  were  sometimes  let  loose  in  the  church  to 
guard  the  treasures,  and  I  believe  that  I  am  right  in 
stating  that  chancel  rails  owe  their  origin  to  the 
presence  of  dogs  in  churches,  and  were  erected  to 
prevent  them  from  entering  the  sanctuary.  Old  Scarlett 
bears  a  dog -whip  as  a  badge  of  his  office,  and  the 

1  The  reader  will  find  numerous  entries  relating1  to  this  subject  in  the 
work  of  Mr.  W.  Andrews  to  which  I  have  referred. 


igo  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

numerous  bequests  to  dog-whippers  show  the  import- 
ance of  the  office. 

Nor  were  dogs  the  only  creatures  who  were  accus- 
tomed to  receive  chastisement  in  church.  The  clerk 
was  usually  armed  with  a  cane  or  rod,  and  woe  betide 
the  luckless  child  who  talked  or  misbehaved  himself 
during  service.  Frequently  during  the  course  of  a  long 
sermon  the  sound  of  a  cane  (the  Tottenham  clerk  had  a 
split  cane  which  made  no  little  noise  when  used  vigor- 
ously) striking  a  boy's  back  was  heard  and  startled  a 
sleepy  congregation.  It  was  all  quite  usual.  No  one 
objected,  or  thought  anything  about  it,  and  the  sermon 
proceeded  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  Paul  Wootton, 
clerk  at  Bromham,  Wilts,  seventy  years  ago  performed 
various  duties  during  the  service,  taking  his  part  in  the 
gallery  among  the  performers  as  bass,  flute  serpent,  an 
instrument  unknown  now,  etc.,  pronouncing  his  Amen 
ore  rotundo  and  during  the  sermon  armed  with  a  long 
stick  sitting  among  the  children  to  preserve  order.  If 
any  one  of  the  small  creatures  felt  that  opere  in  longo 
fas  est  obrepere  somnum,  the  long  stick  fell  with  un- 
erring whack  upon  the  urchin's  head.  When  Mr. 
Stracey  Clitherow  went  to  his  first  curacy  at  Skeyton, 
Norfolk,  in  1845,  he  found  the  clerk  sweeping  the 
whole  chancel  clear  of  snow  which  had  fallen  through 
the  roof.  The  font  was  of  wood  painted  orange  and 
red.  The  singers  sat  within  the  altar  rails  with  a  desk 
for  their  books  inside  the  rails.  There  was  a  famous 
old  clerk,  named  Bird,  who  died  only  a  year  or  two  ago, 
aged  ninety,  and,  as  Mr.  Clitherow  informed  Bishop 
Stanley,  was  the  best  man  in  the  parish,  and  was  well 
worthy  of  that  character. 

Even  in  London  churches  unfortunate  events  hap- 
pened, and  somnolent  clerks  were  not  confined  to  the 


SLEEPY  CHURCH  AND  SLEEPY  CLERKS     191 

country.  A  correspondent  remembers  that  in  1860, 
when  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields  was  closed  for  the 
purpose  of  redecorating,  his  family  migrated  to 
St.  Matthew's  Chapel,  Spring  Gardens  (recently  demol- 
ished), where  one  hot  Sunday  evening  one  of  the  curates 
of  St.  Martin's  was  preaching,  and  in  the  course  of  his 
sermon  said  that  it  was  the  duty  of  the  laity  to  pray  that 
God  would  "endue  His  ministers  with  righteousness." 
The  clerk  was  at  the  moment  sound  asleep,  but  suddenly 
aroused  by  the  familiar  words,  which  acted  like  a  bugle 
call  to  a  slumbering  soldier,  he  at  once  slid  down  on 
the  hassock  at  his  feet  and  uttered  the  response  "And 
make  Thy  chosen  people  joyful."  My  informant 
remarks  that  the  "chosen  people"  who  were  present 
became  "joyful"  to  an  unseemly  degree,  in  spite  of 
strenuous  efforts  to  restrain  their  feelings. 

Sometimes  the  clerk  was  not  the  only  sleeper.  A 
tenor  soloist  of  Wednesbury  Old  Church  eighty  years 
ago  used  to  tell  the  story  of  the  vicar  of  Wednesbury, 
who  one  very  sultry  afternoon  retired  into  the  vestry, 
which  was  under  the  western  tower,  to  don  his  black 
gown  while  a  hymn  was  being  sung  by  the  expectant 
congregation.  The  hymn  having  been  sung  through, 
and  the  preacher  not  having  returned  to  ascend  the 
pulpit,  the  clerk  gave  out  the  last  verse  again.  Still 
no  parson.  Then  he  started  the  hymn,  directing  it  to 
be  sung  all  through  again  ;  but  still  the  vicar  returned 
not.  At  last  in  desperation  he  gave  out  that  they 
"would  now  sing,"  etc.  etc.,  the  ugth  Psalm.  Merci- 
fully before  they  had  all  sunk  back  into  their  seats 
exhausted  the  long-lost  parson  made  his  hurried  re- 
appearance. The  poor  old  gentleman  had  dropped 
into  an  arm-chair  in  the  vestry,  and  overcome  by  the 
heat  had  fallen  soundly  asleep.  As  to  the  clerk,  he 


i92  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

could  not  leave  his  seat  to  go  in  search  of  him  ;  there 
was  no  precedent  for  both  vicar  and  clerk  to  be  away 
from  the  three-decker  before  the  service  was  brought 
to  a  close. 

The  old  clerk  is  usually  intensely  loyal  to  the  Church 
and  to  his  clergyman,  but  there  have  been  some  excep- 
tions. An  example  of  a  disloyal  clerk  comes  from  the 
neighbourhood  of  Barnstaple. 

A  parish  clerk,  apparently  religious  and  venerable, 
held  his  position  in  a  village  church  in  that  district  for 
thirty  years.  He  carried  out  his  duties  with  regularity 
and  thoroughness  equalled  only  by  the  parish  priest. 
This  old  clerk  would  frequently  make  remarks — not 
altogether  pleasing — about  Nonconformists,  whom  he 
summed  up  as  a  lot  of  "  mithudy  nuzenses  "  (methodist 
nuisances). 

A  new  rector  came  and  brought  with  him  new  ideas. 
The  parish  clerk  would  not  be  required  for  the  future. 
As  soon  as  the  old  clerk  heard  this  he  attached  himself 
to  a  local  dissenting  body  and  joined  with  them  to 
worship  in  their  small  chapel.  This,  after  thirty  years' 
service  in  the  Church  and  a  bitter  feeling  against 
Nonconformists,  is  rather  remarkable. 

In  the  forties  there  was  a  sleepy  clerk  at  Hampstead, 
a  very  portly  man,  who  did  ample  justice  to  his  bright 
red  waistcoat  and  brass  buttons.  The  church  had 
a  model  old-time  three-decker.  The  lower  deck  was 
occupied  by  the  clerk,  the  upper  deck  by  the  reader, 
and  the  quarter-deck  by  the  preacher.  The  clerk, 
during  the  sermon,  would  often  fall  asleep  and  make 
known  his  state  by  a  snore.  Then  the  reader  would 
tap  his  bald  head  with  a  hymn-book,  whereupon  he 
would  wake  up  and  startle  the  congregation  by  a  loud 
and  prolonged  "Ah — men," 


SLEEPY  CHURCH  AND  SLEEPY  CLERKS     193 

We  are  accustomed  now  to  have  our  churches  beauti- 
fully decorated  with  flowers  and  fruits  and  holly  and 
evergreens  at  the  great  festivals  and  harvest  thanks- 
giving services.  Sometimes  on  the  latter  occasions 
our  decorations  are  perhaps  a  little  too  elaborate,  and 
remind  one  of  a  horticultural  show.  No  such  charge 
could  be  brought  against  the  old-fashioned  method 
of  church  decoration.  Christmas  was  the  only  season 
when  it  was  attempted,  and  sprigs  of  holly  stuck  at 
the  corners  of  the  old  square  pews  in  little  holes  made 
for  the  purpose  were  always  deemed  sufficient.  This  was 
always  the  duty  of  the  clerk.  Later  on,  when  a  country 
church  was  found  to  be  elaborately  decorated  for  Christ- 
mas and  the  clerk  was  questioned  on  the  subject,  he 
replied,  shaking  his  head,  "  Ah  !  we're  getting  a  little 
High  Church  now."  At  Langport,  Somerset,  the  pews 
were  similarly  adorned  on  Palm  Sunday  with  sprigs  of 
the  catkins  from  willow  trees  to  represent  palms. 

I  have  already  mentioned  some  instances  of  clerks 
who  were  sometimes  elated  by  the  dignity  of  the  office 
and  full  of  conceit.  Wesley  enjoyed  the  experience 
of  having  a  conceited  clerk  at  Epworth,  who  not  only 
was  proud  of  his  singing  and  other  accomplishments, 
but  also  of  his  personal  appearance.  He  delighted 
to  wear  Wesley's  old  clerical  clothes  and  especially 
his  wig,  which  was  much  too  big  for  the  insignificant 
clerk's  head.  John  Wesley  must  have  had  a  sense 
of  humour,  though  perhaps  it  might  have  been  ex- 
hibited in  a  more  appropriate  place.  However,  he 
was  determined  to  humble  his  conceited  clerk,  and  said 
to  him  one  Sunday  morning,  "John,  I  shall  preach  on 
a  particular  subject  this  morning,  and  shall  choose  my 
own  psalm,  of  which  I  will  give  out  the  first  line,  and 
you  will  proceed  and  repeat  the  next  as  usual."  When 
0 


i94  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

the  time  for  psalmody  arrived  Wesley  gave  out,  "Like 
to  an  owl  in  ivy  bush,"  and  the  clerk  immediately 
responded,  "That  rueful  thing  am  I."  The  members 
of  the  congregation  looked  up  and  saw  his  small  head 
half-buried  in  his  large  wig,  and  could  not  restrain 
their  smiles.  The  clerk  was  mortified  and  the  rector 
gratified  that  he  should  have  been  taught  a  lesson  and 
learned  to  be  less  vain. 

Old-fashioned  ways  die  hard.  Only  seven  years  ago 
the  incumbent  of  a  small  Somerset  parish  found  when 
in  the  pulpit  that  he  had  left  his  spectacles  at  home. 
Casting  a  shrewd  glance  around,  he  perceived  just 
below  him,  well  within  reach,  one  of  his  parishioners 
who  was  wearing  a  large  pair  of  what  in  rustic  circles 
are  termed  "  barnacles"  tied  behind  his  head.  Stretch- 
ing down,  the  parson  plucked  them  from  the  astonished 
owner's  brow,  and,  fitting  them  on  his  clerical  nose, 
proceeded  to  deliver  his  discourse.  Thenceforward 
the  clerk,  doubtless  fearing  for  his  own  glasses,  never 
failed  to  carry  to  church  a  second  pair  wherewith  to 
supply,  if  need  be,  his  coadjutor's  shortcomings. 

Another  and  final  story  of  sleepy  manners  comes  to 
us  from  the  north  country.  A  short-sighted  clergy- 
man of  what  is  known  as  the  "old  school"  was  preach- 
ing one  winter  afternoon  to  a  slumberous  congregation. 
Dusk  was  falling,  the  church  was  badly  lighted,  and 
his  manuscript  difficult  to  decipher.  He  managed  to 
stumble  along  until  he  reached  a  passage  which  he 
rendered  as  follows  :  "  Enthusiasm,  my  brethren, 
enthusiasm  in  a  good  cause  is  an  excellent — excellent 
quality,  but  unless  it  is  tempered  with  judgment,  it  is 

apt  to  lead  us — apt  to  lead  us Here,  Thomas," 

handing  the  sermon  to  the  clerk,  "go  to  the  window 
and  see  what  it  is  apt  to  lead  us  into." 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE   CLERK    IN  ART 

THE  finest  portrait  ever  painted  of  a  parish  clerk  is 
that  of  Orpin,  clerk  of  Bradford-on-Avon,  Wilts, 
whose  interesting  old  house  still  stands  near  the  grand 
parish  church  and  the  beautiful  little  Saxon  ecclesias- 
tical structure.  This  picture  is  the  work  of  Thomas 
Gainsborough,  R.A.,  and  is  now  happily  preserved  in 
the  National  Gallery.  Orpin  has  a  fine  and  noble  face 
upon  which  the  sunlight  is  shining  through  a  window 
as  he  turns  from  the  Divine  Book  to  see  the  glories  of 
the  blue  sky. 

"  Some  word  of  life  e'en  now  has  met 

His  calm  benignant  eye  ; 
Some  ancient  promise  breathing  yet 

Of  immortality. 
Some  heart's  deep  language  which  the  glow 

Of  faith  unwavering  gives  ; 
And  every  feature  says  '  I  know 

That  my  Redeemer  lives."  " 

The  size  of  this  canvas  is  four  feet  by  three  feet  two 
inches.  Orpin  is  wearing  a  blue  coat,  black  vest,  white 
neck-cloth,  and  dark  breeches.  His  hair  is  grey  and 
curly,  and  falls  upon  his  shoulders.  He  sits  on  a  gilt- 
nailed  chair  at  a  round  wooden  table,  on  which  is  a 
reading-easel,  supporting  a  large  volume  bound  in 
dark  green,  and  labelled  "  Bible,  Vol.  I."  The  back- 
ground is  warm  brown. 


196  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Of  this  picture  a  critic  states:  "The  very  noble 
character  of  the  worthy  old  clerk's  head  was  probably 
an  additional  inducement  to  Gainsborough  to  paint 
the  picture,  Seldom  does  so  fine  a  subject  present 
itself  to  the  portrait  painter,  and  Gainsborough 
evidently  sought  to  do  justice  to  his  venerable  model 
by  unusual  and  striking  effect  of  lighting,  and  by 
more  than  ordinary  care  in  execution.  It  might  almost 
seem  like  impertinence  to  eulogise  such  painting,  as 
this  canvas  contains  painting  which,  unlike  the  works 
of  Reynolds,  seems  fresh  and  pure  as  the  day  it  left  the 
easel ;  and  it  would  be  still  more  futile  to  attempt  to 
define  the  master's  method." 

The  history  of  the  portrait  is  interesting.  It  was 
painted  at  Shockerwick,  near  Bradford,  where  Wilt- 
shire, the  Bath  carrier,  lived,  who  loved  art  so  much 
that  he  conveyed  to  London  Gainsborough's  pictures 
from  the  year  1761  to  1774  entirely  free  of  charge.  The 
artist  rewarded  him  by  presenting  him  with  some  of 
his  paintings,  The  Return  from  Harvest,  The  Gipsies' 
Repast,  and  probably  this  portrait  of  Orpin  was  one 
of  his  gifts.  It  was  sold  at  Christie's  in  1868  by  a 
descendant  of  the  art-loving  carrier,  and  purchased 
for  the  nation  by  Mr.  Boxall  for  the  low  sum  of  ^325. 

The  mediasval  clerk  appears  in  many  ancient  manu- 
scripts and  illuminations,  which  show  us,  better  than 
words  can  describe,  the  actual  duties  which  he  was  called 
upon  to  perform.  The  British  Museum  possesses  a 
number  of  pontificals  and  other  illustrated  manuscripts 
containing  artistic  representations  of  clerks.  We  see 
him  accompanying  the  priest  who  is  taking  the  last 
sacrament  to  the  sick.  He  is  carrying  a  taper  and  a 
bell,  which  he  is  evidently  ringing  as  he  goes,  its 
tones  asking  for  the  prayers  of  the  faithful  for  the  sick 


THE  CLERK   ATTENDING   THE   PRIEST 
AT   HOLY    BAPTISM 


THE   CLERK   ATTENDING   THE    PRIEST 
AT  HOLY   BAPTISM 


THE   CLERK   IN   ART  197 

man's  soul.  This  picture  occurs  in  a  fourteenth-cen- 
tury MS.  [6  E.  VI,  f.  427],  and  in  the  same  MS.  we  see 
another  illustration  of  the  priest  administering  the  last 
sacrament  attended  by  the  clerk  [6  E.  VII,  f.  70]. 

Another  illustration  shows  the  priest  baptizing  an 
infant  which  the  male  sponsor  holds  over  the  font, 
while  the  priest  pours  water  over  its  head  from  a  shal- 
low vessel.  The  faithful  parish  clerk  stands  by  the 
priest.  This  appears  in  the  fifteenth-century  MS. 
Egerton,  2019,  f.  135. 

In  the  MS.  of  Froissart's  Chronicle  there  is  an  illus- 
tration of  the  coronation  procession  of  Charles  V  of 
France.  The  clerk  goes  before  the  cross-bearer  and 
the  bishop  bearing  his  holy-water  vessel  and  his 
sprinkler  for  the  purpose  of  aspersing  the  spectators. 
We  have  already  given  two  illustrations  taken  from 
a  fourteenth-century  MS.  in  the  British  Museum, 
which  depict  the  clerk,  as  the  aqucebajalus,  entering 
the  lord's  house  and  going  first  into  the  kitchen  to 
sprinkle  the  cook  with  holy  water,  and  then  into  the 
hall  to  perform  a  like  duty  to  the  lord  and  lady  as  they 
sit  at  dinner. 

There  is  a  fine  picture  in  a  French  pontifical  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  which  is  in  the  British  Museum 
(Tiberius,  B.  VIII,  f.  43),  of  the  anointing  and  corona- 
tion of  a  king  of  France.  An  ecclesiastical  procession 
is  represented  meeting  the  king  and  his  courtiers  at 
the  door  of  the  cathedral  of  Rheims,  and  amongst 
the  dignitaries  we  see  the  clerk  bearing  the  holy- 
water  vessel,  the  cross-bearer,  and  the  thurifer  swing- 
ing his  censer.  The  clerk  wears  a  surplice  over  a  red 
tunic. 

One  other  of  these  mediaeval  representations  of  the 
clerk's  duties  may  be  mentioned.  It  is  a  fifteenth- 


198  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

century  French  MS.  in  the  British  Museum  (Egerton, 
2019,  f.  142),  and  represents  the  last  scenes  of  this 
mortal  life.  The  absolution  of  the  penitent,  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  last  sacrament,  the  woman  mourning 
for  her  husband  and  arranging  the  grave-clothes,  the 
singing  of  the  dirige,  the  burial,  and  the  reception  of 
the  soul  of  the  departed  by  our  Lord  in  glory.  The 
clerk  appears  in  several  of  these  scenes.  He  is  kneel- 
ing behind  the  priest  in  the  administration  of  the 
last  sacrament.  Robed  in  surplice  and  cope  he  is 
chanting  the  Psalms  for  the  departed,  and  at  the  burial 
he  is  holding  the  holy-water  vessel  for  the  asperging  of 
the  corpse. 

There  are  several  paintings  by  English  artists  which 
represent  the  old-fashioned  clerk  in  all  his  glory  in 
his  throne  in  the  lowest  seat  of  the  "  three-decker." 
Perhaps  the  most  striking  is  the  satirical  sketch  of 
the  pompous  eighteenth-century  clerk  as  shown  in 
Hogarth's  engraving  of  The  Sleeping  Congregation, 
to  which  I  have  already  referred.  As  a  contrast 
to  Hogarth's  Sleeping  Congregation  we  may  place 
Webster's  famous  painting  of  a  village  choir,  which 
is  thoroughly  life-like  and  inspiring.  The  old  clerk 
with  enrapt  countenance  is  singing  lustily.  The 
musicians  are  performing  on  the  'cello,  clarionet, 
and  hautboy,  and  the  singers  are  chanting  very  ear- 
nestly and  very  vigorously  the  strains  of  some  familiar 
melody.  The  picture  is  a  very  exact  presentment  of  an 
old  village  choir  of  the  better  sort. 

It  was  perhaps  such  a  choir  as  this  that  an  aged 
friend  remembers  in  a  remote  Cornish  village.  It  was 
a  mixed  choir,  led  by  a  'cello,  flute,  and  clarionet. 
Tate  and  Brady's  version  of  the  Psalms  was  used  alter- 
nately with  a  favourite  anthem  arranged  by  some  of 


THE   DUTIES  OF   A  CLERK   AT   A   DEATH   AND   FUNERAL 


THE   CLERK   IN   ART  199 

the  members.  "We'll  wash  our  hands,"  the  basses 
led  off  in  stentorian  tones.  Then  the  tenors  followed. 
Then  the  trebles  in  shrill  voices — "washed  hands." 
Finally,  after  a  pause,  the  whole  choir  shouted  trium- 
phantly, "in  innocence"  ;  and  the  congregation  bore 
it,  my  friend  naively  remarks.  The  orchestra  on  one 
occasion  struck  work.  Only  the  clerk,  who  played  his 
'cello,  remained  faithful.  To  prove  his  loyalty  he 
appeared  as  usual,  gave  out  a  hymn  of  many  verses, 
and  sang  it  through  in  his  clear  bass  voice,  to  the 
accompaniment  of  his  instrument. 

It  was  not  an  unusual  thing  for  the  clerk  to  be  the 
only  chorister  in  a  village  church,  and  then  sometimes 
strange  things  happened.  There  was  a  favourite  tune 
which  required  the  first  half  of  one  of  the  lines  to  be 
repeated  thrice.  This  led  to  such  curious  utterances 
as  "My  own  sal,"  called  out  lustily  three  times, 
and  then  finished  with  "My  own  salvation's  rock  to 
praise."  The  thrice-repeated  "  My  poor  poll"  was  no 
less  striking,  but  it  was  only  a  prelude  to  "My  poor 
polluted  heart."  A  chorus  of  women  and  girls  in  the 
west  gallery  sang  lustily,  "Oh  for  a  man,"  bisy  bis — a 
pause — "A  mansion  in  the  skies."  Another  clerk  sang 
"  And  in  the  pie  "  three  times,  supplementing  it  with 
"And  in  the  pious  He  delights."  Another  bade  his 
hearers  "  Stir  up  this  stew,"  but  he  was  only  referring 
to  "This  stupid  heart  of  mine."  Yet  another  sang 
lustily  "Take  Thy  pill,"  but  when  the  line  was  com- 
pleted it  was  heard  to  be  "  Take  Thy  pilgrim  home." 

Returning  to  the  artistic  presentment  of  clerks,  there 
is  a  fine  sketch  of  one  in  Frith's  famous  painting 
of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  whose  gentle  manners 
and  loving  character  as  conceived  by  Goldsmith  are 
admirably  depicted  by  the  artist.  Near  the  vicar  stands 


200  THE    PARISH    CLERK 

the  faithful  clerk,  a  dear  old  man,  who  is  scarcely  less 
reverend  than  his  vicar. 

There  is  an  old  print  of  a  portion  of  the  church  of 
St.  Margaret,  Westminster,  which  shows  the  Carolian 
"three-decker,"  a  very  elaborate  structure,  crowned  by 
a  huge  sounding-board.  The  clergyman  is  officiating 
in  the  reading  desk,  and  a  very  nice-looking  old  clerk, 
clad  in  his  black  gown  with  bands,  sits  below.  There 
is  a  pompous  beadle  with  his  flowing  wig  and  a  mace 
in  an  adjoining  pew,  and  some  members  of  the  con- 
gregation appear  at  the  foot  of  the  " three-decker," 
and  in  the  gallery.  It  is  a  very  correct  representation 
of  the  better  sort  of  old-fashioned  service. 

The  hall  of  the  Parish  Clerks'  Company  possesses 
several  portraits  of  distinguished  members  of  the  pro- 
fession, which  have  already  been  mentioned  in  the 
chapter  relating  to  the  history  of  the  fraternity.  By 
the  courtesy  of  the  company  we  are  enabled  to  re- 
produce some  of  the  paintings,  and  to  record  some  of 
the  treasures  of  art  which  the  fraternity  possesses. 


PORTRAIT  OF   RICHARD    MUST 

THE   KESTOKKK   OK   THE  CI.KKKs'   AI.MSHOUSES 


CHAPTER   XVI 
WOMEN  AS   PARISH   CLERKS 

A  WOMAN  cannot  legally  be  elected  to  the  office  of 
parish  clerk,  though  she  may  be  a  sexton.  There 
was  the  famous  case  of  Olive  v.  Ingram  (12  George  I) 
which  determined  this.  One  Sarah  Ely  was  elected 
sexton  of  the  parish  of  St.  Botolph  without  Aldersgate 
by  169  indisputable  votes  and  40  which  were  given  by 
women  who  were  householders  and  paid  to  the  church 
and  poor,  against  174  indisputable  votes  and  20  given 
by  women  for  her  male  rival.  Sarah  Bly  was  declared 
elected,  and  the  Court  upheld  the  appointment  and 
decreed  that  women  could  vote  on  such  elections. 

Cuthbert  Bede  states  that  in  1857  there  were  at 
least  three  female  sextons,  or  "sextonesses,"  in  the 
City  of  London,  viz.  :  Mrs.  Crook  at  St.  Mary  the 
Virgin,  Aldermanbury  ;  Mrs.  E.  Worley  at  St.  Laur- 
ence, Jewry,  King  Street ;  and  Mrs.  Stapleton  at 
St.  Michael's,  Wood  Street.  In  1867  Mrs.  Noble  was 
sextoness  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  Peterborough.  The 
Annual  Register  for  1759  mentions  an  extraordinary 
centenarian  sextoness : 

Died,  April  3oth,  Mary  Hall,  sexton  of  Bishop  Hill, 
York  City,  aged  one  hundred  and  five  ;  she  walked  about 
and  retained  her  senses  till  within  three  days  of  her  death. 

Evidently  the  duties  of  her  office  had  not  worn  out 
the  stalwart  old  dame. 


202  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Although  legally  a  woman  may  not  perform  the 
duties  of  a  parish  clerk,  there  have  been  numerous 
instances  of  female  holders  of  the  office.  In  the  census 
returns  it  is  not  quite  unusual  to  see  the  names  of 
women  returned  as  parish  clerks,  and  we  have  many 
who  discharge  the  duties  of  churchwarden,  overseer, 
rate-collector,  and  other  parochial  offices. 

One  Ann  Hopps  was  parish  clerk  of  Linton  about 
the  year  1770,  but  nothing  is  known  of  her  by  her 
descendants  except  her  name.  Madame  D'Arblay 
speaks  in  her  diary  of  that  "poor,  wretched,  ragged 
woman,  a  female  clerk  "  who  showed  her  the  church  of 
Collumpton,  Devon.  This  good  woman  inherited  her 
office  from  her  deceased  husband  and  received  the 
salary,  but  she  did  not  take  the  clerk's  place  in  the 
services  on  Sunday,  but  paid  a  man  to  perform  that 
part  of  her  functions. 

The  parish  register  of  Totteridge  tells  of  the  fame  of 
Elizabeth  King,  who  was  clerk  of  that  place  for  forty- 
six  years.  The  following  extract  tells  its  own  story  : 

March  2nd,  1802,  buried  Elizabeth  King",  widow,  for  46 
years  clerk  of  this  parish,  in  the  gist  year  of  her  age,  who 
died  at  Whetstone  in  the  Parish  of  Finchley,  Feb.  24th. 

N.B. — This  old  woman,  as  long  as  she  was  able  to 
attend,  did  constantly,  and  read  on  the  prayer-days,  with 
great  strength  and  pleasure  to  the  hearers,  though  not  in 
the  clerk's  place  ;  the  desk  being  filled  on  the  Sunday  by  her 
son-in-law,  Benjamin  Withall,  who  did  his  best.1 

Under  the  shade  of  the  episcopal  palace  at  Cuddes- 
don,  at  Wheatley,  near  Oxford,  about  sixty-five  years 
ago,  a  female  clerk,  Mrs.  Sheddon,  performed  the  duties 
of  the  office  which  had  been  previously  discharged  by 
her  husband.  At  Avington,  near  Hungerford,  Berks, 

1  Burn's  History  of  Parish  Registers,  p.  129. 


WOMEN   AS   PARISH   CLERKS  203 

Mrs.  Poffley  was  parish  clerk  for  a  period  of  twenty- 
five  years  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  century.  About 
the  same  time  Mary  Mountford  was  parish  clerk  of 
Misterton,  near  Crewkerne,  Somersetshire,  for  up- 
wards of  thirty  years.  A  female  clerk  was  acting  at 
Igburgh,  Norfolk,  in  1853;  and  at  Sudbrook,  near 
Lincoln,  in  1830,  a  woman  also  officiated  and  died  in 
the  service  of  the  Church.  Nor  was  the  office  confined 
to  rural  women  of  the  working  class.  Mr.  Ellacombe 
remembered  to  have  seen  "a  gentle- woman  acting  as 
parish  clerk  of  some  church  in  London." 

There  are  doubtless  many  other  instances  of  women 
serving  as  parish  clerks,  and  one  of  my  correspondents 
remembers  a  very  remarkable  example. 

In  the  village  of  Willoughton,  Lincolnshire,  more 
than  seventy  years  ago,  there  lived  an  old  dame 
named  Betty  Wells,  who  officiated  as  parish  clerk. 
For  many  years  Betty  sat  in  the  lowest  compartment 
of  the  three-decker  pulpit,  reading  the  lessons  and 
leading  the  responses,  and,  with  the  exception  of  ring- 
ing the  church  bell,  fulfilling  all  the  duties  of  clerk. 

But  Betty  was  also  looked  upon  as  a  witch,  and 
several  stories  are  told  of  how  she  made  things  very 
unpleasant  for  those  who  offended  her. 

One  day  there  had  been  a  christening  at  which 
Betty  had  done  her  share  ;  but  by  some  unfortunate 
oversight  she  was  not  invited  to  the  feast  which  took 
place  afterwards.  No  sooner  had  the  guests  seated 
themselves  at  the  table  than  a  great  cloud  of  soot  fell 
down  the  chimney  smothering  all  the  good  things,  so 
that  nothing  could  be  eaten.  Then,  too  late,  they  re- 
membered that  Betty  Wells  had  not  been  invited,  and 
perfectly  confident  were  they  that  she  had  had  her 
revenge  by  spoiling  the  feast. 


204  THE   PARISH   CLERIC 

One  of  the  farmers  let  Betty  have  straw  for  bedding 
her  pig  in  return  for  manure.  When  one  of  his  men 
came  to  fetch  the  manure  away,  she  thought  he  had 
taken  too  much.  So  she  warned  him  that  he  would  not 
go  far — neither  did  he,  for  the  cart  tipped  right  over. 
And  that  was  Betty  again  ! 

We  know  Betty  had  a  husband,  for  we  hear  that 
one  evening  when  he  came  home  from  his  work  his 
wife  had  ever  so  many  tailors  sitting  on  the  table  all 
busily  stitching.  When  John  came  in  they  vanished. 

A  few  people  still  remember  Betty  Wells,  and  they 
shake  their  heads  as  they  say,  "Well,  you  see,  the 
old  woman  had  a  very  queer-looking  eye,"  giving  you 
to  understand  that  it  was  with  that  particular  eye  she 
worked  all  these  wonders. 

The  story  of  Betty  Wells  has  been  gleaned  from 
scraps  supplied  by  various  old  people  and  collected 
by  Miss  Frances  A.  Hill,  of  Willoughton.  The  un- 
fortunate christening  feast  took  place  after  the  baptism 
of  her  father,  and  the  story  was  told  to  her  by  an  old 
aunt,  now  dead,  who  was  grown  up  at  the  time  (1830) 
and  could  remember  it  all  distinctly.  The  people  who 
told  Miss  Hill  about  Betty  and  her  weird  witch-like 
ways  fully  believed  in  her  supernatural  powers. 

Another  Betty,  whose  surname  was  Finch,  was  em- 
ployed at  the  beginning  of  the  last  century  at  Holy 
Trinity  Church,  Warrington,  as  a  "bobber,"  or  slug- 
gard-waker.1  She  was  the  wife  of  the  clerk,  and  was 
well  fitted  on  account  of  her  masculine  form  to  perform 
this  duty  which  usually  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  parish 
clerk.  She  used  to  perambulate  the  church  armed 
with  a  long  rod,  like  a  fishing-rod,  which  had  a  "  bob" 
fastened  to  the  end  of  it.  With  this  instrument  she 

1  W.  Andrews,  Curiosities  of  the  Church,  p.  176. 


WOMEN   AS   PARISH    CLERKS  205 

effectually  disturbed  the  peaceful  slumbers  of  any  one 
who  was  overcome  with  drowsiness.  The  whole  family 
of  Betty  was  ecclesiastically  employed,  as  her  son  used 
to  sing  : 

"  My  father's  a  clerk, 

My  sister's  a  singer, 
My  mother's  a  bobber, 
And  I  am  a  ringer." 

One  of  my  correspondents  tells  of  another  female 
clerk  who  officiated  in  a  dilapidated  old  church  with  a 
defective  roof,  and  who  held  an  umbrella  over  the 
unfortunate  clergyman  when  he  was  reading  the 
service,  in  order  to  protect  him  from  the  drops  of 
rain  that  poured  down  upon  him. 

Doubtless  in  country  places  there  are  many  other 
churches  where  female  clerks  have  discharged  the 
duties  of  the  office,  but  history  has  not,  as  far  as  I  am 
aware,  recorded  their  names  or  their  services.  Per- 
haps in  an  age  in  which  women  have  taken  upon 
themselves  to  perform  all  kinds  of  work  and  pro- 
fessional duties  formerly  confined  to  men  alone,  we 
may  expect  an  increase  in  the  number  of  female  parish 
clerks,  in  spite  of  legal  enactments  and  other  absurd 
restrictions.  Since  women  can  be  churchwardens,  and 
have  been  so  long  ago  as  1672,  sextons,  overseers  and 
registrars  of  births,  and  much  else,  and  even  at  one 
time  were  parish  constables,  it  seems  that  the  pleasant 
duties  of  a  parish  clerk  might  not  be  uncongenial  to 
them,  though  they  be  debarred  by  law  from  receiving 
the  title  and  rank  of  the  office. 


CHAPTER    XVII 
SOME   YORKSHIRE   CLERKS 

DURING  many  years  of  the  time  that  the  Rev. 
John  Torre  occupied  the  rectory  of  Catwick, 
Thomas  Dixon1  was  associated  with  him  as  parish  clerk. 
He  is  described  as  a  little  man,  old-looking  for  his  age, 
and  in  the  later  years  of  his  life  able  to  walk  only 
with  difficulty.  These  peculiarities,  however,  did  not 
prevent  his  winning  a  young  woman  for  his  wife. 
Possibly  she  saw  the  sterling  character  of  the  man, 
and  admired  and  loved  him  for  it. 

Dixon  was  strongly  attached  to  the  rector,  so  much 
so,  that  to  him  neither  the  rector  nor  the  things 
belonging  to  the  rector,  whether  animate  or  inanimate, 
could  do  wrong.  He  had  a  watch,  and  even  though  it 
might  not  be  one  of  the  best,  a  watch  was  no  small 
acquisition  to  a  working  man  of  his  time.  He  did  not 
live  in  the  days  of  the  three-and-sixpenny  marvel,  or 
of  the  half-crown  wonder,  now  to  be  found  in  the 
pocket  of  almost  every  schoolboy.  Dixon's  watch 
was  of  the  kind  worn  by  the  well-known  Captain 
Cuttle,  which  Dickens  describes  as  being  "a  silver 
watch,  which  was  so  big  and  so  tight  in  the  pocket  that 
it  came  out  like  a  bung"  when  its  owner  drew  it  from 
the  depths  to  see  the  time.  It  must,  consequently, 

1  This  account  of  the  clerks  Dixon  and  Fewson  was  sent  by  the  Rev. 
J.  Gaskell  Exton,  and  is  published  by  the  permission  of  the  editor  of  the 
Yorkshire  Weekly  Post. 

206 


SOME   YORKSHIRE   CLERKS  207 

have  cost  many  half-crowns,  but  yet  as  timekeeper  it 
was  somewhat  of  a  failure.  In  this,  too,  it  resembled 
that  of  the  famous  captain  of  which  its  proud  possessor, 
as  everybody  knows,  used  to  say,  "  Put  you  back  half- 
an-hour  every  morning,  and  about  another  quarter 
towards  the  afternoon,  and  you've  a  watch  that  can  be 
equalled  by  a  few  and  excelled  by  none."  Dixon, 
therefore,  when  asked  the  time  of  day,  was  usually 
obliged  to  go  through  an  arithmetical  calculation 
before  he  could  reply. 

On  Sunday,  however,  all  was  different ;  he  then  had 
no  hesitation  whatever  in  at  once  declaring  the  correct 
time.  For  every  Sunday  morning  he  put  his  watch  by 
the  rector's  clock,  and  it  mattered  not  how  far  the 
rector's  clock  might  be  fast  or  slow,  what  that  clock 
said  was  the  true  time  for  Dixon.  And  though  the 
remonstrances  of  the  parishioners  might  be  loud  and 
long,  they  were  all  in  vain,  for  according  to  the  rector's 
clock  he  rang  the  church  bells,  and  so  the  services 
commenced.  He  loved  the  rector,  therefore  the  rector's 
clock  could  not  be  wrong.  Evidently  Dixon  was  capable 
of  strong  affection,  a  quality  of  no  mean  moral  order. 

Before  the  enclosure  of  parishes  was  common,  and 
their  various  fields  separated  by  hedges  or  other 
fences  ;  before,  too,  the  ordnance  survey  with  its  many 
calculations  was  an  accomplished  fact,  much  more 
measuring  of  land  in  connection  with  work  done  each 
year  was  required  than  at  present.  It  was  a  necessity, 
therefore,  that  each  village  should  have  in  or  near  it 
a  man  skilled  in  the  science  of  calculation.  Con- 
sequently, the  acquirement  of  figures  was  fostered,  and 
so  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  nineteenth  century  almost 
every  parish  could  produce  a  man  supposed  to  be,  and 
who  probably  was,  great  in  arithmetic.  Catwick's 


208  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

calculator  was  Dixon,  and  he  was  generally  thought 
by  his  co-villagers  to  be  as  learned  a  one  as  any  other, 
if  not  more  so. 

He  had,  however,  a  great  rival  at  Long  Riston. 
This  was  one  Richard  Fewson,  who,  like  Dixon,  was 
clerk  of  his  parish  ;  but  while  Dixon  was  a  shopkeeper 
Fewson  kept  the  village  school. 

Fewson's  modes  of  punishing  refractory  scholars 
were  somewhat  peculiar.  Either  a  culprit  was  hoisted 
on  the  back  of  another  scholar,  or  made  to  stoop  till 
his  nose  entered  a  hole  in  the  desk,  and  when  in  one 
or  other  of  these  positions  was  made  to  feel  the  singular 
sensation  caused  by  a  sound  caning  on  that  particular 
part  of  his  anatomy  which  it  is  said  "nature  intends 
for  correction."  Sometimes,  too,  an  offender  was  made 
to  sit  in  a  small  basket,  to  the  cross  handle  of  which 
a  rope  had  been  tied,  and  by  this  means  he  was 
hoisted  to  a  beam  near  the  roof  of  the  school.  Here  he 
was  compelled  to  stay  for  a  longer  or  shorter  period, 
according  to  the  offence,  knowing  that,  if  he  moved  to 
ease  his  crippled  position,  the  basket  would  tilt  and  he 
would  fall  to  the  floor. 

On  one  occasion,  with  an  exceptionally  refractory 
pupil,  his  mode  of  punishment  was  even  more  peculiar 
still.  Having  told  all  the  girls  to  turn  their  faces  to 
the  wall — and  not  one  of  them,  so  my  informant,  one 
of  the  boys,  said,  would  dare  to  disobey  the  order — he 
chalked  the  shape  of  a  grave  on  the  floor  of  the  school- 
room. He  then  made  the  boy,  an  incorrigible  truant, 
strip  off  all  his  clothes,  and  when  he  stood  covered  only 
in  nature's  dress,  told  him  in  solemn  tones  that  he  was 
going  to  bury  him  alive  and  under  the  floor.  One 
scholar  was  then  sent  for  a  pick,  and  when  this  was 
fetched,  another  was  sent  for  a  shovel.  By  the  time 


SOME   YORKSHIRE   CLERKS  209 

they  were  both  brought,  the  truant  was  in  a  panic  of 
fear,  the  end  hoped  for.  The  master  then  sternly  asked 
the  boy  if  he  would  play  truant  again,  to  which  the  boy 
quickly  answered  no.  On  this,  he  was  allowed  to 
dress,  being  assured  as  he  did  so  that  if  ever  again  he 
stopped  from  school  without  leave  he  should  certainly 
be  buried  alive,  and  so  great  was  the  dread  produced, 
the  boy  from  that  time  was  regularly  found  at  school. 

If  parents  objected  to  these  punishments,  they  were 
simply  told  to  take  their  children  from  school,  which, 
as  Fewson  was  the  only  master  for  miles  around,  he 
knew  they  would  be  loath  to  do.  Fewson  taught  nearly 
all  the  children  of  the  district  whose  parents  felt  it 
necessary  that  they  should  have  any  education.  He  is 
said  to  have  turned  out  good  scholars  in  the  three  R's, 
his  curriculum  being  limited  to  these  subjects,  with,  for 
an  extra  fee,  mensuration  added. 

But  Fewson,  if  he  did  not  teach  it,  felt  himself  to  be 
well  up  in  astronomy.  One  summer,  an  old  boy  of  his 
told  me,  he  got  the  children — my  informant  amongst 
the  number — to  collect  from  their  parents  and  others 
for  a  trip  to  Hornsea.  When  the  money  was  all  in  he 
complained  that  the  amount  was  insufficient  for  a  trip, 
and  suggested  that  a  telescope  he  had  seen  advertised 
should  be  bought  with  the  money.  If  this  were  done, 
he  promised  that  those  who  had  subscribed  should 
have  the  telescope  in  turn  to  look  through  from  Satur- 
day to  Monday.  The  telescope  was  purchased,  and 
each  subscriber  had  it  once,  and  then  it  was  no  more 
seen.  From  that  time  it  became  the  entire  property  of 
the  master.  The  children  never  again  collected  for 
a  trip,  and  small  wonder. 

Fewson   was  a   good    singer  and   musician    gener- 
ally, so  in  addition  to  his  office  as  clerk  he  held  the 
p 


210  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

position  of  choirmaster.  At  church  on  Sunday  he  sat 
at  the  west  end,  the  boys  of  the  village  sitting  behind 
him,  and  it  was  part  of  his  duty  to  see  that  they 
behaved  themselves  decorously.  Should  a  boy  make 
any  disturbance  Fewson's  hand  fell  heavily  on  the 
offender's  ears,  and  so  sharply  that  the  sound  of  the 
blows  could  be  heard  throughout  the  church.  Such  in- 
cidents as  this  were  by  no  means  uncommon  in  churches 
in  the  days  when  Fewson  and  Dixon  flourished,  and 
they  were  looked  upon  as  nothing  extraordinary,  for 
small  compunction  was  felt  in  the  punishment  of  unruly 
urchins. 

I  have  been  told  of  another  clerk,  for  instance,  who 
dealt  such  severe  blows  on  the  heads  of  boys,  who 
behaved  in  the  least  badly,  with  a  by  no  means  small 
stick,  that,  like  Fewson's,  they,  too,  resounded  all  over 
the  church.  This  clerk  was  known  as  "  Old  Crack 
Skull,"  and  there  were  many  others  who  might  as 
appropriately  have  borne  the  name. 

As  parish  clerk,  Fewson  attended  the  Archdeacon's 
visitation  with  the  churchwardens,  whose  custom  it 
was  on  each  such  occasion  to  spend  about  .£3  in 
eating  and  drinking.  On  the  appointment  of  a  new 
and  reforming  churchwarden  this  expenditure  was 
stopped,  and  for  the  first  time  Fewson  returned  to 
Riston  sober.  Here  he  looked  at  the  churchwarden 
and  sorrowfully  said,  "  For  thirty  years  I  have  been  to 
the  visitation  and  always  got  home  drunk ;  Sally  will 
think  I  haven't  been."  He  then  turned  into  the  public- 
house,  and  afterwards  reached  home  in  the  condition 
Sally,  his  wife,  would  expect. 

Insobriety  was  the  normal  condition  of  Fewson  after 
school  hours.  It  was  his  invariable  custom  to  visit 
the  public-house  each  evening,  where  he  always  found 


THE   CHURCH   OF   ST.    MARGARET,   WESTMINSTER 


SOME   YORKSHIRE   CLERKS  211 

a  clean  pipe  and  an  ounce  of  tobacco  ready  for  him. 
Here  he  acted  as  president  of  those  who  forgathered, 
being  by  virtue  of  his  wisdom  readily  conceded  this 
position.  His  favourite  drink  was  gin,  and  of  this  he 
imbibed  freely  ;  leaving  for  home  about  ten  o'clock, 
which  he  found  usually  only  after  many  a  stumble  and 
sometimes  a  fall.  He,  however,  managed  to  save 
money,  with  which  he  built  himself  a  house  at  Arnold, 
adorning  it,  as  still  to  be  seen,  with  the  carved  heads 
of  saints  and  others,  begged  from  the  owners  of  the 
various  ancient  ecclesiastical  piles  of  the  neighbour- 
hood. He  died  about  seventy  years  ago,  and  was  buried 
at  Riston. 

Between  Dixon  and  Fewson  there  was  much  friendly 
strife  with  regard  to  the  solving  of  hard  arithmetical 
problems.  This  contest  was  no  mere  private  matter. 
It  was  entered  into  with  great  zest  by  the  men  of 
both  the  villages  concerned ;  the  Catwickians  and 
the  Ristonians  each  backing  their  man  to  win.  "A 
straw  shows  which  way  the  wind  blows,"  we  say,  and 
herein  we  may  feel  a  breathing  of  the  Holderness 
man's  love  of  his  clan,  an  affection  which  has  done 
much  to  develop  and  to  strengthen  his  character. 

Dixon  was  employed  by  the  harvesters  and  others 
to  measure  the  land  which  they  had  reaped,  or  on 
which  they  had  otherwise  worked.  When  the  different 
measurements  had  been  taken,  he,  of  course,  had  to 
find  the  result.  For  this,  he  needed  no  pen,  ink,  or 
paper,  nor  yet  a  slate  and  pencil.  He  made  his  calcu- 
lations by  a  much  more  economic  method  than  these 
would  supply.  He  sat  down  in  the  field  he  had 
measured,  took  off  his  beaver  hat,  and,  using  it  as 
a  kind  of  blackboard,  with  a  piece  of  chalk  worked 
out  the  result  of  his  measurements  on  its  crown. 


212  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Dixon  must  have  been  a  man  of  resources,  as  are 
most  Holderness  men  where  the  saving  of  money  is 
concerned.  I  have  heard  it  said  that  the  spirit  of 
economy  has  so  permeated  their  character  that  it  has 
influenced  even  their  speech.  "  So  saving  are  they," 
say  some,  "  that  the  definite  article,  the,  is  never  used 
by  them  in  their  talk."  But  this  is  a  libel ;  another 
and  a  truer  reason  may  be  found  for  the  omission  in 
their  Scandinavian  origin. 

Another  parish  clerk  who  held  office  at  a  church 
about  five  miles  from  Catwick,  by  trade  a  tailor,  was 
a  noted  character  and  remarkable  for  his  parsimonious 
habits.  He  is  described  as  having  been  a  very  little 
man  and  of  an  extremely  attenuated  appearance.  The 
story  of  his  economy  during  his  honeymoon,  when  the 
happy  pair  stayed  in  some  cheap  town  lodgings,  is  not 
pleasing. 

His  great  effort  in  saving,  however,  resulted  from 
his  sporting  proclivities.  Tailor  though  he  was,  he 
conceived  a  great  desire  to  be  a  mighty  hunter.  So 
strong  did  this  passion  burn  within  him  that  he  made 
up  his  mind,  sooner  or  later,  to  hunt,  and  with  the 
best,  in  a  red  coat,  too.  He  therefore  began  to  save 
with  this  object  in  view.  Denying  himself  every 
luxury  and  most  other  things  which  are  usually 
counted  necessaries,  for  long  he  lived,  it  is  said,  on 
half  a  salt  herring  a  day  with  a  little  bread  or  a  few 
vegetables  in  addition.  By  doing  so,  he  was  able  to 
put  almost  all  he  earned  to  the  furtherance  of  the  pur- 
pose of  his  heart.  This  went  on  till  he  had  saved  £200. 
Then  he  felt  his  day  was  come.  He  bought  a  horse, 
made  himself  the  scarlet  coat,  and  went  to  the  hunt  as 
he  thought  a  gentleman  should.  His  hunting  lasted 
for  two  seasons,  when,  the  money  he  had  saved  being 


SOME   YORKSHIRE   CLERKS  213 

spent,  he  went  back  to  his  trade,  at  which  he  worked 
as  energetically  as  ever. 

At  the  west  end  of  the  nave  of  Catwick  Church 
formerly  was  erected  a  gallery.  In  this  loft,  as  it  was 
commonly  called,  the  musicians  of  the  parish  sang 
or  played.  Various  instruments,  bassoon,  trombone, 
violoncello,  cornet,  cornopean,  and  clarionet,  flute, 
fiddle,  and  flageolet,  or  some  of  their  number,  were 
employed,  calling  to  mind  the  band  of  Nebuchad- 
nezzar of  old.  The  noise  made  in  the  tuning  of  the 
instruments  to  the  proper  pitch  may  be  readily  im- 
agined. Now,  the  church  possesses  an  organ,  and  the 
choirmen  and  boys  have  their  places  in  the  chancel, 
while  the  musicians  of  the  parish  occupy  the  front 
seats  of  the  nave.  This  arrangement  is  eminently 
suitable  for  effectually  leading  the  praises  of  the 
people,  but  not  perhaps  more  so,  its  noise  notwith- 
standing, than  the  former  style  ;  indeed,  I  am  some- 
what doubtful  if  the  new  equals  the  old.  The  old 
certainly  had  the  merit  of  engaging  most,  if  not  all, 
the  musicians  of  the  village  in  the  worship  of  the 
church. 

At  the  east  end  of  the  nave,  in  the  days  of  the  loft, 
stood  a  kind  of  triple  pulpit,  commonly  called  a  three- 
decker.  It  was  composed  of  three  compartments,  the 
second  above  and  behind  the  first,  and  the  third 
similarly  placed  with  regard  to  the  second.  The 
lowest,  resting  on  the  floor,  was  the  place  for  the 
clerk,  the  middle  was  for  the  parson  when  reading 
the  prayers  and  Scriptures,  and  the  highest  for  the 
parson  when  preaching.  Such  pulpits  are  now  almost 
as  completely  things  of  the  past  as  the  old  warships 
from  which,  in  derision,  they  got  their  name.  Once 
only  have  I  read  the  service  and  preached  from  a  three- 


214  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

decker,  and  then  the  clerk  did  not  occupy  the  position 
assigned  to  him.  Dixon,  however,  always  used  the 
little  desk  at  the  foot  of  the  Catwick  pulpit,  and  from 
it  took  his  share  of  the  service. 

It  was  part  of  his  duty,  as  clerk,  to  choose  and  to 
give  out  the  number  of  the  hymns.  Now  Dixon,  like 
Fewson,  was  a  singer,  and  felt  that  the  choir  could  not 
get  on  without  the  help  of  his  voice  in  the  gallery 
when  the  hymns  were  sung.  Consequently,  he  then 
left  his  box  and  went  to  the  singing  loft ;  but,  to  save 
time,  as  he  marched  down  the  aisle  from  east  to  west, 
and  as  he  mounted  the  steps  of  the  gallery,  he  slowly 
and  solemnly  announced  the  number  of  the  hymn  and 
read  the  lines  of  the  first  verse.  When  the  hymn  was 
sung,  our  bird-like  clerk  came  down  again  from  the 
heights  of  the  loft  and  returned  to  his  perch  at  the  base 
of  the  pulpit. 

Nowadays,  we  should  consider  such  proceedings 
very  unseemly,  but  it  would  have  been  thought  nothing 
of  in  the  days  of  Dixon.  Scenes,  according  to  our 
ideas,  much  more  grotesque  were  then  of  frequent 
occurrence.  We  have  already  looked  on  at  least  one  ; 
here  is  another  which  took  place  in  the  neighbouring 
church  of  Skipsea  one  Sunday  afternoon  some  sixty 
years  ago,  and  in  connection  with  singing.  The 
account  was  given  to  me  by  a  parishioner  of  about 
eighty  years  of  age,  who  was  one  of  the  choirmen  on 
the  occasion. 

The  leading  singer,  he  said,  there  being  no  instru- 
ment, started  a  tune  for  the  hymn.  It  would  not  fit 
the  words,  and  he  soon  came  to  a  full  stop,  and  choir 
and  congregation  with  him.  At  this,  one  of  the  con- 
gregation, in  a  voice  that  could  be  heard  the  whole 
church  over,  called  out,  "  Give  it  up,  George!  Give 


SOME  YORKSHIRE  CLERKS  215 

it  up  !"  "No,  no,"  said  the  vicar  in  answer,  leaning 
over  his  desk,  "  No,  no,  George,  try  again!  try 
again  ! "  George  tried  again,  and  again  failed.  But 
the  vicar  still  encouraged  him  with  "Have  another 
try,  George !  Have  another  try  !  You  may  get  it  yet!" 
George  tried  the  third  time,  and  now  hit  upon  a  right 
tune  ;  and  to  the  general  delight  the  hymn  was  sung 
through. 

Without  doubt,  in  the  days  of  our  forefathers  the 
services  of  the  Church  were  conducted  with  the  greatest 
freedom.  But  we  may  not  judge  those  who  preceded 
us  by  our  own  standard,  nor  yet  apart  from  the  time  in 
which  they  lived. 

When  two  young  people  of  Catwick  or  its  neigh- 
bourhood feel  they  can  live  no  longer  without  each 
other,  they  in  local  phrase  "put  in  the  banns." 
They  then,  of  course,  expect  to  have  them  published, 
or  again  in  local  idiom  "thrown  over  the  pulpit."  On 
all  such  occasions,  according  to  a  very  old  custom, 
after  the  rector  had  read  out  the  names,  with  the  usual 
injunction  following,  from  the  middle  compartment  of 
the  three-decker,  Dixon  would  rise  from  his  seat  below, 
and  slowly  and  clearly  cry  out,  "  God  speed  'em  weel  " 
(God  speed  them  well).  By  this  pious  wish  he  prayed 
for  a  blessing  on  those  about  to  be  wed,  and  in  this 
the  congregation  joined,  for  they  responded  with 
Amen. 

Dixon  was  the  last  of  the  Catwick  clerks  to  keep  this 
custom.  Much  more  recently,  however,  than  the  time 
he  held  office,  members  of  the  congregation,  usually 
those  seated  in  the  loft,  on  the  publication  of  the 
banns  of  some  well-known  people,  have  called  out  the 
time-honoured  phrase.  But  it  is  'now  heard  no  more. 
The  custom  has  gone  into  a  like  oblivion  to  that  of  the 


2i6  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

parish  clerk  himself,  once  so  important  a  person,  in  his 
own  estimation  if  in  that  of  no  other,  both  in  church 
and  parish.  "The  old  order  changeth." 

Thomas  Dixon  died  at  Catwick  when  sixty-seven 
years  of  age.  He  was  buried  in  the  churchyard  on 
January  2,  1833,  and  by  the  Rev.  John  Torre,  the 
rector  he  served  so  faithfully. 

When  Sydney  Smith  went  to  see  the  out-of-the-way 
Yorkshire  village  of  Foston-le-Clay,  to  which  benefice 
he  had  been  presented,  his  arrival  occasioned  great 
excitement.  The  parish  clerk  came  forward  to  welcome 
him,  a  man  eighty  years  of  age,  with  long  grey  hair, 
thread-bare  coat,  deep  wrinkles,  stooping  gait,  and  a 
crutch  stick.  He  looked  at  the  new  parson  for  some 
time  from  under  his  grey  shaggy  eyebrows,  and  talked, 
and  showed  that  age  had  not  quenched  the  natural 
shrewdness  of  the  Yorkshireman. 

At  last,  after  a  pause,  he  said,  striking  his  crutch 
stick  on  the  ground  : 

"  Master  Smith,  it  often  stroikes  moy  moind  that 
folks  as  come  frae  London  be  such  fools.  But  you," 
he  added,  giving  Sydney  Smith  a  nudge  with  his  stick, 
"  I  see  you  be  no  fool."  The  new  vicar  was  gratified. 
Yorkshiremen  are  keen  songsters,  and  fortissimo 
is  their  favourite  note  of  expression.  "  Straack  up  a 
bit,  Jock!  straack  up  a  bit,"  a  Yorkshire  parson  used 
to  shout  to  his  clerk,  when  he  wanted  the  Old  Hun- 
dredth to  be  sung.  Well  do  I  remember  a  delightful 
old  clerk  in  the  Craven  district,  who  used  to  give  out 
the  hymn  in  the  accustomed  form  with  charming 
manner.  He  liked  not  itinerant  choirs,  which  were 
not  uncommon  forty  or  fifty  years  ago,  and  used  to 
migrate  from  church  to  church,  and  sometimes  to 
chapel,  in  the  district  where  the  members  lived.  One 


SOME  YORKSHIRE   CLERKS  217 

of  these  choirs  visited  the  church  where  the  Rev.  — 
Morris  was  rector,  and  he  was  directed  to  give  out  the 
anthem  which  the  itinerant  strangers  were  prepared 
to  sing.  He  neither  knew  nor  cared  what  an  anthem 
was  ;  and  he  gave  the  following  somewhat  confused 
notice  : 

"  Let  us  sing  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  God  the 
fiftieth  Psalm,  while  you  folks  sing  th'  anthem,"  casting 
a  scornful  glance  at  the  wandering  musicians  in  the 
opposite  gallery. 

Missionary  meetings  and  sermons  were  somewhat 
rare  in  those  days,  but  the  special  preacher  for 
missions,  commonly  called  the  deputation,  who  per- 
forms for  lazy  clerics  the  task  of  instructing  the  people 
about  work  in  the  mission  field — a  duty  which  could 
well  be  performed  by  the  vicar  himself — had  already 
begun  his  itinerant  course.  The  congregation  were 
waiting  in  the  churchyard  for  his  arrival,  when  the  old 
Yorkshire  vicar,  mentioned  above,  said  to  his  clerk, 
"Jock,  ye  maunt  let  'em  into  th'  church;  the  dippita- 
tion  a'n't  coom."  Presently  two  clergymen  arrived, 
when  the  clerk  called  out,  "  Ye  maunt  gang  hoame ; 
t'  deppitation's  coom."  The  old  vicar  made  an  excel- 
lent chairman,  his  introductory  remarks  being  models 
of  brevity:  "  T'  furst  deppitation  will  speak!"  "T* 
second  deppitation  will  speak  !  "  after  which  the  clerk 
lighted  some  candles  in  the  singing  gallery,  and  gave 
out  for  an  appropriate  hymn,  "Vital  spark  of  heavenly 
flame." 

A  writer  in  Chambers's  Journal  tells  of  a  curious 
class  of  clergymen  who  existed  forty  years  ago,  and 
were  known  as  "Northern  Lights,"  the  light  from  a 
spiritual  point  of  view  being  somewhat  dim  and 
flickering.  The  writer,  who  was  the  vicar  for  twenty- 


2i8  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

five  years  of  a  moorland  parish,  tells  of  several  clerks 
who  were  associated  with  these  clerics,  and  who  were 
as  quaint  and  curious  in  their  ways  as  their  masters.1 
The  village  was  a  hamlet  on  the  edge  of  the  Yorkshire 
moors,  near  the  confines  of  Derbyshire.  Beside  the 
church  was  a  public-house  kept  by  the  parish  clerk, 
Jerry,  a  dapper  little  man,  who  on  Sundays  and  funeral 
days  always  wore  a  wig,  an  old-fashioned  tailed  coat, 
black  stockings,  and  shoes  with  buckles.  His  house  was 
known  as  ''Heaven's  Gate,"  where  the  farmers  from 
the  neighbouring  farms  used  to  drink  and  stay  a  week 
at  a  time.  Jerry  used  to  direct  the  funerals,  make  the 
clerkly  responses,  and  then  provide  the  funeral  party 
with  good  cheer  at  his  inn.  His  invitation  was  al- 
ways given  at  the  graveside  in  a  high-pitched  falsetto 
voice,  and  the  formula  ran  in  these  words,  and  was 
never  varied  : 

"Friends  of  the  corpse  is  respectfully  requested  to 
call  at  my  house,  and  partake  then  and  there  of  such 
refreshments  as  is  provided  for  them." 

Much  intemperance  and  disorder  often  followed  these 
funeral  feastings.  An  old  song  long  preserved  in  the 
district  depicts  one  of  these  funerals,  which  was  by 
no  means  a  one-day  affair,  but  sometimes  lasted 
several  days,  during  which  the  drinking  went  on. 
The  inn  was  perhaps  a  necessity  in  this  out-of-the- 
world  place,  but  it  was  unfortunately  a  great  tempta- 
tion to  the  inhabitants,  and  to  the  old  Northern  Light 
parson  who  preceded  the  vicar  whose  reminiscences  we 
are  recording.  Here  in  the  inn  the  old  parson  sat 
between  morning  and  afternoon  service  with  a  long 
clay  pipe  in  his  mouth  and  a  glass  of  whisky  by  his 

1  By  the  kindness  of  the  editor  of  Chambers  s  Journal  I  am  permitted 
to  retell  some  of  the  stories  of  the  manners  of  these  clerks  and  parsons. 


SOME   YORKSHIRE   CLERKS  219 

side.  When  the  bells  began  to  settle  and  the  time  of 
service  approached,  he  would  send  Jerry  to  the  church 
to  see  if  many  people  had  arrived.  When  Jerry 
replied  : 

"  There's  not  many  corned  yet,  Mr.  Nowton,"  the 
parson  would  say  : 

"Then  tell  them  to  ring  another  peal,  Jerry,  and 
just  fill  up  my  glass  again." 

The  communion  plate  was  kept  at  the  inn  under 
Jerry's  charge.  Three  times  a  year  it  was  used,  and 
the  circumstances  were  disgraceful.  Four  bottles  of 
port  wine  were  deemed  the  proper  allowance  on  com- 
munion days,  and  after  a  fractional  quantity  had  been 
consumed  in  the  church,  the  rest  was  finished  by  the 
churchwardens  at  the  inn.  One  of  these  church- 
wardens drank  himself  to  death  after  the  communion 
service.  He  was  a  big  man  with  a  red  face,  and  was 
always  present  when  a  bear  was  baited  at  the  top  of 
the  hill  above  the  village.  One  day  the  bear  escaped 
and  ran  on  to  the  moor ;  everybody  scattered  in  all 
directions,  and  several  dogs  were  killed  before  the 
bear  was  caught. 

The  successor  of  Jerry  as  clerk,  but  not  as  publican, 
was  a  rough,  honest  individual  who  was  called  Dick. 
When  excited  he  had  two  oaths,  "  By'r  Lady!"  and 
"  By  the  mass  !  "  but  as  he  always  pronounced  this  last 
word  mess,  it  was  evident  he  did  not  understand  the 
nature  of  the  oath  he  used.  He  had  a  rough-and- 
ready  way  of  doing  things,  and  when  handing  out 
hymn-books  during  service  he  used  to  throw  a  book  up 
to  an  applicant  in  the  gallery  to  save  the  trouble  of 
walking  up  the  stairs  in  proper  fashion.  He  talked 
the  broadest  Yorkshire  dialect,  and  it  was  not  always 
easy  to  understand  him.  This  was  particularly  the 


220  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

case  when,  in  his  capacity  as  clerk,  he  repeated  the 
responses  at  the  funeral  service. 

A  tremendous  snowfall  happened  one  winter,  and 
the  roads  were  all  blocked.  It  was  impossible  for  any 
one  to  go  to  church  on  the  Sunday  morning  following 
the  fall,  as  the  snow  had  not  been  cleared  away.  It 
was  necessary  for  the  vicar,  however,  to  get  there,  as 
he  had  to  read  out  the  banns  of  marriage  which  were 
being  published  ;  so,  putting  on  fishing-waders  to  pro- 
tect himself  from  the  wet  snow,  he  succeeded  with 
some  difficulty  in  getting  through  the  drifts.  In  the 
churchyard,  standing  before  the  church  clock,  he  found 
Dick  intently  gazing  at  it,  so  he  asked  him  if  it  was 
going.  His  reply  was  laconic:  "  Noa ;  shoe's  froz." 
He  and  the  vicar  then  went  into  the  church,  and  the 
necessary  publication  of  banns  was  read  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  clerk  alone. 

In  those  days  it  was  necessary  that  the  wedding 
service  should  be  all  over  by  twelve  o'clock,  and  it  was 
most  important  that  due  notice  should  be  given  of  the 
date  of  the  wedding,  a  matter  about  which  Dick  was 
sometimes  rather  careless. 

The  vicar  had  gone  into  Derbyshire  for  a  few  days  to 
fish  the  River  Derwent.  He  was  fishing  a  long  distance 
up  the  stream  when  he  heard  his  name  called,  and  saw 
his  servant  running  towards  him,  who  said  that  a  wed- 
ding was  waiting  for  him  at  the  church.  Dick  had 
forgotten  to  give  due  notice  of  this  event.  The 
vicarage  trap  was  in  readiness,  but  the  road  over  the 
Derbyshire  Peak  was  rough  and  steep,  the  pony  small, 
the  distance  ten  miles,  and  the  vicar  encumbered  with 
wet  clothes.  The  chance  of  getting  to  the  church 
before  twelve  o'clock  seemed  remote.  But  the  vicar 
and  pony  did  their  best ;  it  was,  however,  half  an  hour 


SOME   YORKSHIRE   CLERKS  221 

after  the  appointed  time  when  they  reached  the  church. 
Glancing  at  the  clock  in  the  tower,  the  vicar,  to  his 
astonishment,  found  the  hands  pointing  to  half-past 
eleven.  The  situation  was  saved,  and  the  service  was 
concluded  within  the  prescribed  time.  The  vicar 
turned  to  the  clerk  for  an  explanation.  "I  seed  yer 
coming  over  the  hill,"  he  said,  "  and  I  just  stopped  the 
clock  a  bit."  Dick  was  an  ingenious  man. 

There  was  another  character  in  the  parish  quite  as 
peculiar  as  Dick,  and  he  was  one  of  the  principal 
singers,  who  sat  in  the  west  gallery.  He  had  formerly 
played  the  clarionet,  before  an  organ  was  put  into  the 
church.  During  service  he  always  kept  a  red  cotton 
handkerchief  over  his  bald  head,  which  gave  him  a 
decidedly  comic  appearance. 

On  one  occasion  the  clergyman  gave  out  a  hymn  in 
the  old-fashioned  way  :  "  Let  us  sing  to  the  praise  and 
glory  of  God  the  twenty-first  hymn,  second  version." 
Up  jumped  the  old  singer  and  shouted,  "  You're  wrang, 
maister  ;  it's  first  version."  The  clergyman  corrected 
himself,  when  the  singer  again  rose  :  u  You're  wrang 
agearn  ;  it's  twenty-second  hymn."  Without  any  re- 
mark the  clergyman  corrected  the  number,  and  the 
man  again  jumped  up:  "That's  reet,  mon,  that's 
reet."  When  the  old  singer  died  his  widow  was  very 
anxious  there  should  be  some  record  on  his  tombstone 
of  his  having  played  the  clarionet  in  church  ;  so  above 
his  name  a  trumpet-shaped  instrument  was  carved  on 
the  stone,  and  some  doggerel  lines  were  to  be  added 
below.  The  vicar  had  great  difficulty  in  persuading 
the  family  to  abandon  the  lines  for  the  text,  "The 
trumpet  shall  sound,  and  the  dead  shall  be  raised." 

A  neighbouring  vicar  was  on  one  occasion  taking  the 
duty  of  an  old  man  with  failing  eyesight,  and  Dick  re- 


222  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

minded  him  before  the  afternoon  service  that  there  was 
a  funeral  at  four  o'clock.  "You  must  come  into  the 
church  and  tell  me  when  it  arrives,"  he  told  the  clerk, 
"and  I  will  stop  my  sermon."  It  was  the  habit  of  the 
old  clergyman  to  relapse  into  a  strong  Yorkshire 
dialect  when  speaking  familiarly,  and  this  will  account 
for  the  brief  dialogue  which  passed  between  him  and 
Dick  as  he  stood  at  the  lectern.  In  due  course  the 
funeral  arrived  at  the  church  gates,  and  the  first  in- 
timation the  congregation  inside  the  church  had  of  this 
fact  was  the  appearance  of  Dick,  who  noisily  threw 
open  the  big  doors  of  the  south  porch.  He  then  stood 
and  beckoned  to  the  clergyman,  but  his  poor  blind  eyes 
could  not  see  so  far.  Dick  then  came  nearer  and 
waved  his  hat  before  him.  This  again  met  with  no 
response.  Then  he  got  near  enough  to  pluck  him  by 
the  arm,  which  he  did  rather  vigorously,  shouting  at 
the  same  time,  "  Shoo's  coomed."  "  Wha's  coomed  ?  " 
replied  the  clergyman,  relapsing  into  his  Yorkshire 
speech.  "  Funeral's  coomed,"  retorted  Dick.  "Then 
tell  her  to  wait  a  bit  while  I  finish  my  sermon  "  ;  and 
the  old  man  went  quietly  on  with  his  discourse. 

Another  instance  of  Dick's  failing  to  give  proper 
notice  of  a  service  was  as  follows  ;  but  on  this  occasion 
it  was  not  really  his  fault.  Some  large  reservoirs  were 
being  made  in  the  parish,  and  nearly  a  thousand  navvies 
were  employed  on  the  works.  These  men  were  con- 
stantly coming  and  going,  and  very  often  they  brought 
some  infectious  disorder  which  spread  among  the  huts 
where  they  lived.  One  day  a  navvy  arrived  who 
broke  out  in  smallpox  of  a  very  severe  kind,  and  in  a 
couple  of  days  the  man  died,  and  the  doctor  ordered 
the  body  to  be  buried  the  moment  a  coffin  could  be  got. 
It  was  winter-time,  and  the  vicar  had  ridden  over  to  see 


SOME   YORKSHIRE   CLERKS  223 

some  friends  about  ten  miles  away.  As  the  afternoon 
advanced  it  began  to  rain  very  heavily,  and  he  decided 
not  to  ride  back  home,  but  to  sleep  at  his  friend's  house. 
About  five  o'clock  a  messenger  arrived  to  say  a  funeral 
was  waiting  in  the  church,  and  he  was  to  come  at  once. 
He  started  in  drenching  rain,  which  turned  to  sleet  and 
snow  as  he  approached  the  moor  edges.  It  was  pitch- 
dark  when  he  got  off  his  horse  at  the  church  gates,  and 
with  some  difficulty  he  found  his  way  into  the  vestry 
and  put  a  surplice  over  his  wet  garments.  He  could  see 
nothing  in  the  church,  but  he  asked  when  he  got  into 
the  reading-desk  if  any  one  was  there.  A  deep  voice 
answered,  "  Yes,  sir  ;  we  are  here  "  ;  and  he  began  the 
service,  which  long  practice  had  taught  him  to  repeat 
by  heart.  When  about  half-way  through  the  lesson  he 
saw  a  glimmer  of  light,  and  Dick  entered  the  church 
with  a  lantern,  which  he  placed  on  the  top  of  the  coffin. 
It  was  a  gruesome  scene  which  the  lantern  brought 
into  view.  There  was  the  coffin,  and  before  it,  in  a 
seat,  four  figures  of  the  navvy-bearers,  and  Dick  him- 
self covered  with  snow  and  as  white  as  if  he  wore  a 
surplice.  They  filed  out  into  the  churchyard,  but  the 
wind  had  blown  the  snow  into  the  grave,  and  this  had 
to  be  got  out  before  they  could  lower  the  body  into  it. 
The  navvies,  who  were  kind-hearted  fellows,  explained 
that  they  could  give  no  notice  of  the  funeral  beforehand, 
and  they  quite  understood  the  delay  was  no  fault  of  the 
vicar's  or  Dick's. 

Dick  was,  in  spite  of  his  faults,  an  honest  and  kind- 
hearted  man,  and  his  death,  caused  by  a  fall  from  a 
ladder,  was  much  regretted  by  his  good  vicar.  On  his 
death-bed  the  old  clerk  sent  for  his  favourite  grandson, 
who  succeeded  him  in  his  office,  and  made  this  pathetic 
request :  "  Thou'lt  dig  my  grave,  Jont,  lad." 


224  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

With  Dick  the  last  of  the  "Northern  Lights" 
flickered  out.  Nothing  now  remains  in  the  village 
recalling  those  old  times.  The  village  inn  has  been 
suppressed,  and  the  drinking  bouts  are  over.  The  old 
church  has  been  entirely  restored,  and  there  is  order 
and  decency  in  the  services.  The  strange  thing  is  that 
it  should  have  been  possible  that  only  forty  years  ago 
matters  were  in  such  a  state  of  chaos  and  disorder,  and 
in  such  need  of  drastic  reformation. 

Another  Yorkshire  clerk  flourished  in  the  thirties  at 
Bolton-on-Dearne  named  Thomas  Rollin,  commonly 
called  Tommy.  He  used  to  render  Psalm  cii.  6 : 
"I  am  become  a  pee-li-can  in  the  wilderness,  and  an 
owl  in  the  dee-serf."  Tommy  was  a  tailor  by  trade, 
and  made  use  of  a  ready-reckoner  to  assist  him  in 
making  up  his  accounts,  and  his  familiarity  with  that 
useful  book  was  shown  when  reading  the  second  verse 
of  the  forty-fifth  Psalm,  which  Tommy  invariably  read: 
"My  tongue  is  the  pen  of  a  ready-reckoner"  to  the 
immense  delight  of  the  youthful  members  of  the  con- 
gregation. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

AN    OLD    CHESHIRE    CLERK    AND    SOME 
OTHER   WORTHIES 

IT  is  nearly  fifty  years  since  I  used  to  attend  the 
quaint  old  parish  church  at  Lawton,  Cheshire, 
situate  half-way  between  Congleton  and  Crewe.  It  is 
a  lonely  spot,  "  miles  from  anywhere,"  having  not  the 
vestige  of  a  village,  and  the  congregation  was  formed 
of  well-to-do  farmers,  who  came  from  the  scattered 
farmsteads.  How  well  I  remember  the  old  parish 
clerk  and  the  numerous  duties  which  fell  to  his  lot ! 
He  united  in  his  person  the  offices  of  clerk,  sexton, 
beadle,  church-keeper,  organist,  and  ringer.  The 
organ  was  of  the  barrel  kind,  and  no  one  knew  how 
to  manipulate  the  instrument  or  to  change  the  barrels, 
except  the  clerk.  He  had  also  to  place  ten  decent 
loaves  in  a  row  on  the  communion  table  every  Sunday 
morning,  which  were  provided  by  a  charitable  bequest 
for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  widows  of  the  parish. 
If  the  widows  did  not  attend  service  to  curtsy  for 
them,  the  loaves  were  given  to  any  one  who  liked  to 
take  them.  Old  Clerk  Briscall  baked  them  himself. 
He  kept  a  small  village  shop  about  two  miles  from  the 
church.  He  was  also  the  village  shoemaker.  A  curious 
system  prevailed.  As  you  entered  the  church,  near 
the  large  stove  you  would  see  a  long  bench,  and  under 
Q  225 


226  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

this  bench  a  row  of  boots  and  shoes.  If  any  one 
wanted  his  boots  to  be  mended,  he  would  take  them 
to  church  with  him  and  put  them  under  the  bench. 
These  were  collected  by  the  cobbler-clerk,  carried 
home  in  a  sack,  and  brought  back  on  the  following 
Sunday  neatly  and  carefully  soled  and  heeled.  It 
would  seem  strange  now  if  on  entering  a  church  our 
eyes  should  light  upon  a  row  of  farmers'  dirty  old  boots 
and  the  freshly-mended  evidences  of  the  clerk's  skill. 
All  this  took  place  in  the  fifties.  In  the  sixties  a  new 
vicar  came.  The  old  organ  wheezed  its  last  phlegmatic 
tune  ;  it  was  replaced  by  a  modern  instrument  with  six 
stops,  and  a  player  who  did  his  best,  but  occasioned 
not  a  little  laughter  on  account  of  his  numerous  break- 
downs. The  old  high  pews  have  disappeared,  nice 
open  benches  erected,  the  floor  relaid,  a  good  choir 
enlisted,  and  everything  changed  for  the  better. 

The  poor  old  clerk  must  have  been  almost  over- 
whelmed by  his  numerous  duties,  and  was  often  much 
embarrassed  and  exasperated  by  the  old  squire, 
Mr.  C.  B.  Lawton,  who  was  somewhat  whimsical  in 
his  ways.  This  gentleman  used  to  enter  the  church 
by  his  own  private  door,  and  go  to  his  large,  square, 
high-panelled  family  pew,  and  when  the  vicar  gave  out 
the  hymn,  he  used  often  to  shout  out,  "  Here,  hold  on ! 
I  don't  like  that  one  ;  let's  have  hymn  Number  25," 
or  some  such  effort  of  psalmody.  This  request,  or 
command,  used  to  upset  the  organ  arrangement,  and 
the  poor  old  clerk  had  to  rummage  among  his  barrels 
to  get  a  suitable  tune,  and  the  operation,  even  if  suc- 
cessful, took  at  least  ten  minutes,  during  which  time 
a  large  amount  of  squeaking  and  the  sounds  of  the 
writhing  of  woodwork  and  snapping  of  sundry  catches 
were  heard  in  the  church.  But  the  congregation  was 


SOME   OTHER   WORTHIES  227 

accustomed  to  the  performance  and  thought  little  of 
it.  (John  Smallwood,  2  Mount  Pleasant,  Strangeways, 
Manchester.) 

Caistor  Church,  Lincolnshire,  famous  for  the  curious 
old  ceremony  of  the  gad-whip,  was  also  celebrated  for 
its  clerk,  old  Joshua  Foster,  who  was  officiating  there 
in  1884  at  the  time  of  the  advent  of  a  new  vicar. 
Trinity  Sunday  was  the  first  Sunday  of  the  new  clergy- 
man, who  sorely  puzzled  the  clerk  by  reading  the 
Athanasian  Creed.  The  old  man  peered  down  into 
the  vicar's  family  pew  from  his  desk,  casting  a  despair- 
ing glance  at  the  wife  of  the  vicar,  who  handed  him  a 
Prayer  Book  with  the  place  found,  so  that  he  could 
make  the  responses.  He  was  very  economical  in  the 
use  of  handkerchiefs,  and  used  the  small  pieces  of 
paper  on  which  the  numbers  of  the  metrical  psalm  were 
written.  In  vain  did  the  wife  of  the  vicar  present  him 
with  red-and-white-spotted  handkerchiefs,  which  were 
used  as  comforters.  The  church  was  lighted  with 
tallow  candles — "dips"  they  were  called — and  at  in- 
tervals during  the  service  Joshua  would  go  round  and 
snuff  them.  The  snuffers  soon  became  full,  and  it 
was  a  matter  of  deep  interest  to  the  congregation  to 
see  on  whose  head  the  snuff  would  fall,  and  to  dodge 
it  if  it  came  their  way. 

The  Psalms  of  Tate  and  Brady's  version  were  sung 
and  were  given  out  with  the  usual  preface,  "  Let  us  sing 
to  the  praise  and  glory  of  God  the  ist,  2nd,  5th,  8th, 

and  2Oth  verses  of  the Psalm  with  the  Doxology." 

How  that  Doxology  bothered  the  congregation  !  The 
Doxologies  were  all  at  the  end  of  the  Prayer  Book,  and 
it  was  not  always  easy  to  hit  the  right  metre  ;  but  that 
was  of  little  consequence.  A  word  added  if  the  line 


228  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

was  too  short,  or  omitted  if  too  long,  required  skill, 
and  made  all  feel  that  they  had  done  their  best  when 
it  was  successfully  over.  After  the  old  clerk's  death, 
he  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Joshua,  or  Jos-a-way,  as 
the  name  was  pronounced,  whose  son,  also  named 
Joshua  the  third,  became  clerk,  and  still  holds  the 
office. 

The  predecessor  of  the  vicar  was  a  pluralist,  who 
held  Caistor  with  its  two  chapelries  of  Holton  and 
Clixby  and  the  living  of  Rothwell.  He  was  non- 
resident, and  the  numerous  churches  were  served  by 
a  curate.  This  man  was  a  great  smoker,  and  used  to 
retire  to  the  vestry  to  don  the  black  gown  and  smoke 
a  pipe  before  the  sermon,  the  congregation  singing  a 
Psalm  meanwhile.  One  Sunday  he  had  an  extra  pipe, 
and  Joshua  told  him  that  the  people  were  getting  im- 
patient. 

"  Let  them  sing  another  Psalm,"  said  the  curate. 

"They  have,  sir,"  replied  the  clerk. 

"Then  let  them  sing  the  ngth,"  replied  the  curate. 

At  last  he  finished  his  pipe,  and  began  to  put  on 
the  black  gown,  but  its  folds  were  troublesome,  and 
he  could  not  get  it  on. 

"I  think  the  devil's  in  the  gown,"  muttered  the 
curate. 

"  I  think  he  be,"  dryly  replied  old  Joshua. 

That  the  clerk  was  often  a  person  of  dignity  and 
importance  is  shown  by  the  recollections  of  an  old 
parishioner  of  the  rector  of  Fornham  All  Saints, 
near  Bury  St.  Edmunds.  "Mr.  Baker,  the  clerk,"  of 
Westley,  who  flourished  seventy  years  ago,  used  to 
hear  the  children  their  catechism  in  church  on  Sunday 
afternoons.  "Ah,  sir,  I  often  think  of  what  he  told 
us,  that  the  world  would  not  come  to  an  end  till  people 


SOME   OTHER  WORTHIES  229 

were  killed  wholesale,  and  now  think  how  often  that 
happens ! "  She  was  probably  not  alluding  to  the 
South  African  or  the  Japanese  war,  but  to  railway  acci- 
dents, as  she  at  once  told  her  favourite  story  of  her 
solitary  journey  to  Newmarket,  when  on  her  return 
she  remarked,  "  If  I  live  to  set  foot  on  firm  ground, 
never  no  more  for  me." 

The  old  clerk  used  to  escort  the  boys  and  girls  to 
their  confirmation  at  Bury,  and  superintended  their 
meal  of  bread,  beer,  and  cheese  after  the  rite.  There 
was  no  music  at  Westley,  except  when  Mr.  Humm,  the 
clerk  of  Fornham,  "brought  up  his  fiddle  and  some 
of  the  Fornham  girls."  Nowadays,  adds  the  rector, 
the  Rev.  C.  L.  Feltoe,  the  clerks  are  much  more 
illiterate  than  their  predecessors,  and,  unlike  them,  non- 
communicants. 

Another  East  Anglian  clerk  was  a  quaint  character, 
who  had  a  great  respect  for  all  the  old  familiar  residents 

in  his  town  of  S ,  and  a  corresponding  contempt 

for  all  new-comers.  The  family  of  my  informant  had 
resided  there  for  nearly  a  century,  and  had,  therefore, 
the  approval  of  the  clerk.  On  one  occasion  some  of 
the  family  found  their  seat  occupied  by  some  new 
people  who  had  recently  settled  in  the  town.  The 
clerk  rushed  up,  and  in  a  loud  voice,  audible  all  over  the 
church,  exclaimed : 

"Never  you  mind  that  air  muck  in  your  pew.  I'll 
soon  turn  'em  out.  The  imperent  muck,  takin'  your 
seats  ! " 

The  family  insisted  upon  "the  muck"  being  left  in 
peace,  and  forbade  the  eviction. 

The  old  clerk  used  vigorously  a  long  stick  to  keep 
the  school  children  in  order.  He  was  much  respected, 
and  his  death  universally  regretted. 


23o  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

Fifty  years  ago  there  was  a  dear,  good  old  clerk, 
named  Bamford,  at  Mangotsfield  Church,  who  used 
to  give  out  the  hymns,  verse  by  verse.  The  vicar 
always  impressed  upon  him  to  read  out  the  words  in  a 
loud  voice,  and  at  the  last  word  in  each  verse  to  pitch 
his  voice.  The  hymn,  "This  world's  a  dream,"  was 
rendered  in  this  fashion  : 

"  This  world's  a  drame,  an  empty  shoe, 
But  this  bright  world  to  which  I  goo 
Hath  jaays  substantial  an'  sincere, 
When  shall  I  wack  and  find  me  THEER?" 

William  Smart,  the  parish  clerk  of  Windermere  in 
the  sixties,  was  a  rare  specimen.  By  trade  an  auctioneer 
and  purveyor  of  Westmorland  hams,  he  was  known 
all  round  the  countryside.  He  was  very  patronising 
to  the  assistant  curates,  and  a  favourite  expression  of 
his  was  "me  and  my  curate."  When  one  of  his 
curates  first  took  a  wedding  he  was  commanded  by  the 
clerk,  "When  you  get  to  'hold  his  peace,'  do  you 
stop,  for  I  have  something  to  say."  The  curate  was 
obedient,  and  stopped  at  the  end  of  his  prescribed 
words,  when  William  shouted  out,  "God  speed  them 
well  ! " 

This  unauthorised  but  excellent  clerkly  custom  was 
not  confined  to  Windermere,  but  was  common  in 
several  Norfolk  churches,  and  at  Hope  Church,  Derby- 
shire, the  clerk  used  to  express  the  good  wish  after  the 
publication  of  the  banns. 

The  old-fashioned  clerk  was  usually  much  impressed 
by  the  importance  of  his  office.  Crowhurst,  the  old 
clerk  at  Allington,  Kent,  in  1852,  just  before  a  wedding 
took  place,  marched  up  to  the  rector,  the  Rev.  E.  B. 
Heawood,  and  said  : 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  the  ceremony  can't  proceed." 


SOME   OTHER   WORTHIES  231 

"Why  not?  What  do  you  mean?"  asked  the  sur- 
prised rector. 

"The  marriage  can't  take  place,  sir,"  he  answered 
solemnly,  "  'cos  I've  lost  my  specs." 

Fortunately  a  pupil  of  the  rector's  came  forward  and 
confessed  that  he  had  hidden  the  old  man's  spectacles 
in  a  hole  in  the  wall,  and  the  ceremony  was  no  longer 
delayed. 

At  Bromley  College  the  same  clergyman  had  a 
curious  experience,  when  the  clerk  was  called  to  assist 
at  a  service  for  the  Churching  of  Women.  As  it  was 
very  unusually  performed  there,  he  was  totally  at  a  loss 
what  service  to  find,  and  asked  in  great  perturbation  : 

"  Please,  sir,  be  I  to  read  the  responses  in  the  services 
for  the  Queen's  Accession?" 

The  same  service  sadly  puzzled  the  clerk  at  Hadding- 
ton,  who  was  in  the  employment  of  the  then  Earl  of 

W .  One  Sunday  Lady  W came  to  be  churched, 

when  in  response  to  the  clergyman's  prayer,  "  O  Lord, 
save  this  woman,  Thy  servant,"  the  clerk  said,  "Who 
putteth  her  ladyship's  trust  in  Thee." 

The  Rev.  W.  H.  Langhorne  tells  me  some  amusing 
anecdotes  of  old  clerks.  Once  he  was  preaching  in  a 
village  church  for  home  missions,  and  just  as  he  was 
reaching  the  pulpit  he  observed  that  the  clerk  was 
preparing  to  take  round  the  plate.  He  whispered  to 
him  to  wait  till  he  had  finished  his  sermon.  "  It  won't 
make  a  ha'porth  o'  difference,"  was  the  encouraging 
reply.  But  at  the  close  of  the  sermon  there  was  another 
invitation  to  give  additional  offerings,  which  were  not 
withheld. 

In  the  old  days  when  Bell's  Life  was  the  chief  sport- 
ing paper,  a  hunting  parson  was  taking  the  service  one 
Sunday  morning  and  gave  out  the  day  of  the  month 


232  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

and  the  Psalm.  The  clerk  corrected  him,  but  the  rector 
again  gave  out  the  same  day  and  was  again  corrected. 
The  rector,  in  order  to  decide  the  controversy,  produced 
a  copy  of  Bell's  Life  and  handed  it  to  the  clerk,  who 
then  submitted.  It  is  not  often,  I  imagine,  that  a  sport- 
ing paper  has  been  appealed  to  for  the  purpose  of 
deciding  what  Psalms  should  be  read  in  church. 

One  very  wet  Sunday  Mr.  Langhorne  was  summoned 
to  take  an  afternoon  service  several  miles  distant  from  his 
residence.  The  congregation  consisted  of  only  half  a 
dozen  people.  After  service  he  said  to  the  clerk  that  it 
was  hardly  worth  while  coming  so  far.  "  We  might 
have  done  with  a  worse  'un,"  was  his  reply. 

That  reminds  me  of  another  clerk  who  apologised  to 
a  church  dignitary  who  had  been  summoned  to  take  a 
service  at  a  small  country  church.  The  form  of  the 
apology  was  not  quite  happily  expressed.  He  said, 
"  I  am  sorry,  sir,  to  have  brought  such  a  gentleman  as 
you  to  this  poor  place.  A  worse  would  have  done,  if 
we  had  only  known  where  to  find  him  ! " 

The  new  vicar  of  D was  calling  upon  an  old 

parishioner,  who  said  to  him:  "  Ah  !  I've  seen  mony 

changes.  I've  seen  four  vicars  of  D .  First  there 

was  Canon  G ,  then  there  was  Mr.  T ,  who's 

now  a  bishop,  and  then  Mr.  F came,  and  now 

you've  coom,  and  we've  wossened  (worsened)  every 
toime." 

A  clerk  named  Turner,  who  officiated  at  Alnwick, 
was  a  great  character,  and  in  spite  of  his  odd  ways  was 
esteemed  for  his  genuine  worth  and  fidelity  to  the  three 
vicars  under  whom  he  served.  He  looked  upon  the 
church  and  parish  as  his  own,  and  used  to  say  that  he 
had  trained  many  "kewrats"  in  their  duties.  His 
responses  in  the  Psalms  were  often  startling.  Instead 


SOME   OTHER   WORTHIES  233 

of  "The  Lord  setteth  up  the  meek,"  he  would  say, 
"The  Lord  sitteth  upon  the  meek."  "The  great 
leviathan"  he  rendered  "the  great  live  thing." 
"Caterpillars  innumerable"  he  pronounced  "cater- 
pilliars  innumerabble."  When  a  funeral  was  late  he 
scolded  the  bearers  at  the  churchyard  gate. 

At  Wimborne  Minster,  Dorset,  there  used  to  be 
three  priest  vicars,  and  each  of  them  had  a  clerk.  It 
was  the  custom  for  each  of  the  priest  vicars  to  take  the 
services  for  a  week  in  rotation,  and  the  first  lesson  was 
always  read  by  "the  clerk  of  the  week,"  as  he  was 
called.  On  Sundays,  when  there  was  a  celebration  of 
the  Holy  Communion,  the  "clerk  of  the  week"  ad- 
vanced to  the  lectern  after  the  sermon  was  finished,  and 
said,  "All  who  wish  to  receive  the  Holy  Communion, 
draw  near."  These  words,  in  the  case  of  one  worthy, 
named  David  Butler,  were  always  spoken  in  a  high- 
pitched,  drawling  voice,  and  finished  off  with  a  kick 
to  the  rearwards  of  the  right  leg. 

The  old  clerk  at  Woodmancote,  near  Henfield, 
Sussex,  was  a  very  important  person.  There  was 
never  any  committee  meeting  but  he  attended.  So 
much  so,  that  one  day  in  church  leading  the  singing 
and  music  with  voice  and  flute,  when  it  came  to  the 
"  Gloria"  he  sang  loudly,  "  As  it  was  in  the  committee 
meeting,  is  now,  and  ever  shall  be  .  .  ." 

An  acquaintance  remarked  to  him  afterwards  that 
the  last  meeting  he  attended  must  have  been  a  rather 
long  one  ! 

A  story  is  told  of  the  clerk  at  West  Dean,  near 
Alfriston,  Sussex.  Starting  the  first  line  of  the  Psalm 
or  hymn,  he  found  that  he  could  not  see  owing  to  the 
failing  light  on  a  dark  wintry  afternoon.  So  he  said, 
"My  eyes  are  dim,  I  canna  see,"  at  which  the  con- 


234  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

gregation,  composed  of  ignorant  labourers,  sang  after 
him  the  same  words.  The  clerk  was  wroth,  and  cried 
out,  "Tarnation  fools  you  all  must  be."  Here  again 
the  congregation  sang  the  same  words  after  the  clerk. 

Strange  times,  strange  manners  ! 

A  writer  in  the  Spectator  tells  of  a  clerk  who,  like 
many  of  his  fellows,  used  to  convert  "  leviathan"  into 
"  that  girt  livin'  thing,"  thus  letting  loose  before  his 
hearers'  imagination  a  whole  travelling  menagerie, 
from  which  each  could  select  the  beast  which  most 
struck  his  fancy.  This  clerk  was  a  picturesque  person- 
ality, although,  unlike  his  predecessor,  he  had  dis- 
carded top-boots  and  cords  for  Sunday  wear  in  favour 
of  black  broadcloth.  When  not  engaged  in  marrying 
or  burying  one  of  his  flock,  he  fetched  and  carried 
for  the  neighbours  from  the  adjacent  country  town,  or 
sold  herrings  and  oranges  (what  mysterious  affinity 
is  there  between  these  two  dissimilar  edibles  that  they 
are  invariably  hawked  in  company?)  from  door  to 
door.  During  harvest  he  rang  the  morning  "  leazing 
bell "  to  start  the  gleaners  to  the  fields,  and  every 
night  he  tolled  the  curfew,  by  which  the  villagers  set 
their  clocks.  He  it  was  who,  when  the  sermon  was 
ended,  strode  with  dignity  from  his  box  on  the  "  lower 
deck"  down  the  aisle  to  the  belfry,  and  pulled  the 
"dishing-up  bell"  to  let  home-keeping  mothers  know 
that  hungry  husbands  and  sons  were  set  free.  Folks 
in  those  days  were  less  easily  fatigued  than  they  are 
now.  Services  were  longer,  the  preacher's  "leanings 
to  mercy"  were  less  marked,  and  congregations  counted 
themselves  ill-used  if  they  broke  up  under  the  two 
hours.  The  boys  stood  in  wholesome  awe  of  the  clerk, 
as  well  they  might,  for  his  eye  was  keen  and  his  stick 
far-reaching.  Moreover,  no  fear  of  man  prevented 


SOME   OTHER   WORTHIES  235 

him  from  applying  the  latter  with  effect  to  the  heads 
of  slumberers  during  divine  service.  By  way  of  re- 
taliation the  youths,  when  opportunity  occurred,  would 
tie  the  cord  of  the  "tinkler"  to  the  weathercock,  and 
the  parish  on  a  stormy  night  would  be  startled  by  the 
sound  of  ghostly,  fitful  ting-tangs.  To  Sunday  blows 
the  clerk,  who  was  afflicted  with  rheumatism,  added 
weekday  anathemas  as  he  climbed  the  steep  ascent  to 
the  bell-chamber  and  the  yet  steeper  ladder  that  gave 
access  to  the  leads  of  the  tower.  The  perpetual  hostility 
that  reigned  between  discipliner  and  disciplined  bred 
no  ill  will  on  either  side.  "Boys  must  be  boys"  and 
"He's  paid  for  lookin'  arter  things"  were  the  argu- 
ments whereby  the  antagonists  testified  their  mutual 
respect,  in  both  of  which  the  parents  concurred  ;  and 
his  severity  did  not  cost  the  old  man  a  penny  when  he 
made  his  Easter  rounds  to  collect  the  "sweepings." 
It  may,  perhaps,  be  well  to  explain  that  the  "sweep- 
ings "  consisted  of  an  annual  sum  of  threepence  which 
every  householder  contributed  towards  the  cleaning 
of  the  church,  and  which  represented  a  large  part  of 
the  clerk's  salary.1 

The  Rev.  C.  C.  Prichard  recollects  a  curious  old 
character  at  Churchdown,  near  Gloucester,  commonly 
pronounced  "  Chosen  "  in  those  days. 

This  old  clerk  was  only  absent  one  Sunday  from 
"Chosen  "  Church,  and  then  he  was  lent  to  the  neigh- 
bouring church  of  Leckhampton.  Instead  of  the  re- 
sponse "  And  make  Thy  chosen  people  joyful,"  mindful 
of  his  change  of  locality  he  gave  out  with  a  strong  nasal 
twang,  "And  make  Thy  Leck'ampton  people  joyful." 
The  Psalms  were  somewhat  a  trouble  to  him,  and  to  the 
congregation  too.  One  verse  he  rendered  "Like  a 

1  Spectator,  14  October,  1905. 


236  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

paycock  in  a  wild-dook's  nest,  and  a  howl  in  the  dessert, 
even  so  be  I."  He  was  a  thoroughly  good  old  man, 
and  brought  up  a  large  family  very  respectably. 

I  remember  the  old  clerk,  James  Ingham,  of  Whalley 
Church,  Lancashire.  It  is  a  grand  old  church,  full  of 
old  dark  oak  square  pews,  and  the  clerk  was  in  keep- 
ing with  his  surroundings.  He  was  a  humorous 
character,  and  had  a  splendid  deep  bass  voice.  He 
used  to  show  people  over  the  ruined  abbey,  and  his 
imagination  supplied  the  place  of  accurate  historical 
information.  Some  American  visitors  asked  him  what 
a  certain  path  was  used  for.  "  Well,  marm,"  said 
James,  "  it's  onsartin  :  but  they  do  say  the  monks  and 
nuns  used  to  walk  up  and  down  this  'ere  path,  arm-in- 
arm, of  a  summer  arternoon." 

It  is  recorded  of  one  Thomas  Atkins,  clerk  of 
Chillenden  Church,  Kent,  that  he  used  to  leave  his 
reading-desk  at  the  commencement  of  the  General 
Thanksgiving  and  proceed  to  the  west  gallery,  where 
he  gave  out  the  hymn  and  sang  a  duet  with  the  village 
cobbler,  in  which  the  congregation  joined  as  best  they 
could.  He  walked  very  slowly  down  the  church,  and 
said  the  Amen  at  the  end  of  the  Thanksgiving  wherever 
he  happened  to  be,  and  that  was  generally  half-way  up 
the  gallery  stairs,  whence  his  feeble  voice,  with  a  good 
tremolo,  used  to  sound  like  the  distant  baaing  of  a 
sheep.  It  was  a  strange  and  curious  performance. 

Miss  Rawnsley,  of  Raithby  Hall,  Spilsby,  gives  some 
delightful  reminiscences  of  a  most  original  specimen 
of  the  race  of  clerks,  old  Haw,  who  officiated  at  Halton 
Holgate,  Lincolnshire.  He  was  a  curious  mixture  of 
worldly  wisdom  and  strong  religious  feeling.  The 
former  was  exemplified  by  his  greeting  to  a  cousin  of 
my  correspondent,  just  returned  from  his  ordination. 


SOME   OTHER   WORTHIES  237 

He  said,  "  Now,  Mr.  Hardwick,  remember  thou  must 
creep  an'  crawl  along  the  'edge  bottoms,  and  then  tha'ill 
make  thee  a  bishop." 

He  was  a  strong  advocate  of  Fasting  Communion. 
No  one  ever  knew  whence  he  derived  his  strong  views 
on  the  subject.  The  rector  never  taught  it.  Probably 
his  ideas  were  derived  from  some  long  lingering 
tradition.  When  over  seventy  years  of  age  he  set  out 
fasting  to  walk  six  miles  to  attend  a  late  celebration  at 
a  distant  church  on  the  occasion  of  its  consecration. 
Nothing  would  ever  induce  him  to  break  his  fast  before 
communicating  ;  and  on  this  occasion  he  was  picked 
up  in  a  dead  faint,  his  journey  being  only  half  com- 
pleted. 

On  Wednesdays  and  Fridays  he  always  went  into 
the  church  at  eleven  o'clock  and  said  the  Litany  aloud. 
When  asked  his  reason,  he  said,  "I've  gotten  an  un- 
godly wife  and  two  ungodly  bairns  to  pray  for,  sir." 
He  once  asked  one  of  the  rector's  daughters  to  help 
him  in  the  Parody  of  the  Psalms  he  was  making ;  and 
on  another  occasion  requested  to  have  the  old  altar- 
cloth,  which  had  just  been  replaced  by  a  new  one,  "to 
make  a  slop  to  dig  the  graves  in,  and  no  sacrilege 
neither." 

At  Sutton  Maddock,  Shropshire,  there  was  a  clerk 
who  used  to  read  "  Pe-li-can  in  the  wilderness,"  and 
the  usual  "Howl  in  the  Ztesart,"  and  "  Teach  the 
•Senators  wisdom,"  and  when  the  Litany  was  said  on 
Wednesdays  and  Fridays  declared  that  it  was  not  in 
his  Prayer  Book  though  he  took  part  in  it  every 
Sunday.  When  a  kind  lady,  Miss  Barnfield,  expressed 
a  wish  that  his  wife  would  get  better,  he  replied,  "I 
hope  her  will  or  summat." 

At  Claverley,  in  the  same  county,  on  one  Sunday,  the 


238  THE    PARISH   CLERK 

rector  told  the  clerk  to  give  notice  that  there  would  be 
no  service  that  afternoon,  adding  sotto  voce,  "  I  am 
going  to  dine  at  the  Paper  Mill."  He  was  rather 
disgusted  when  the  clerk  announced,  "There  will  be  no 
Diving  Service  this  arternoon,  the  Parson  is  going  to 
dine  at  the  Peaper  Mill."  The  clerk  was  no  respecter 
of  persons,  and  once  marched  up  to  the  rector's  wife 
in  church  and  told  her  to  keep  her  eyes  from  beholding 
vanity. 

The  Rev.  F.  A.  Davis  tells  me  of  a  story  of  an 
illiterate  clerk  who  served  in  a  Wiltshire  church,  where 
a  cousin  of  my  informant  was  vicar.  A  London  clergy- 
man, who  had  never  preached  or  been  in  a  country 
church  before,  came  to  take  the  duty.  He  was  anxious 
to  find  out  if  the  people  listened  or  understood  sermons. 
His  Sunday  morning  discourse  was  based  on  the  text 
St.  Mark  v.  1-17,  containing  the  account  of  the  heal- 
ing of  the  demoniacally  possessed  persons  at  Gadara, 
and  the  destruction  of  the  herd  of  swine.  On  the 
Monday  he  asked  the  clerk  if  he  understood  the 
sermon.  The  clerk  replied  somewhat  doubtfully, 
"Yes."  "But  is  there  anything  you  do  not  quite 
understand?"  said  the  clergyman;  "I  shall  be  only 
too  glad  to  explain  anything  I  can,  so  as  to  help  you." 
After  a  good  deal  of  scratching  the  back  of  his  head 
and  much  hesitating,  the  clerk  replied,  "Who  paid 
for  them  pigs?" 

Many  examples  I  have  given  of  the  dry  humour  of 
old  clerks,  which  is  sometimes  rather  disconcerting. 
A  stranger  was  taking  the  duty  in  a  church,  and  after 
service  made  a  few  remarks  about  the  weather,  assert- 
ing that  it  promised  to  be  a  fine  day  for  the  haymaking 
to-morrow.  "Ah,  sir,"  replied  the  clerk,  "they  do  say 
that  the  hypocrites  can  discern  the  face  of  the  sky." 


WILLIAM   HINTON,   A  WILTSHIRE   WORTHY 

DRAWN    BY   THE    REV.    JULIAN   CHARLES  YOUNG 


SOME   OTHER   WORTHIES  239 

The  Rev.  Julian  Charles  Young,  rector  of  Ilmington, 
in  his  Memoir  of  Charles  Mayne  Young,  Tragedian, 
published  in  1871,  speaks  of  the  race  of  parish  clerks 
who  flourished  in  Wiltshire  in  the  first  half  of  the  last 
century.  Instead  of  a  nice  discrimination  being  exer- 
cised in  the  choice  of  a  clerk,  it  seems  to  have  been  the 
rule  to  select  the  sorriest  driveller  that  could  be  found 
— some  "lean  and  slippered  pantaloon,  with  spectacles 
on  nose  and  pouch  at  side," 

"  triumphant  over  time, 
And  over  tune,  and  over  rhyme  " — 

who  by  his  snivelling  enunciation  of  the  responses  and 
his  nasal  drawlings  of  the  A — mens,  was  sure  to  pro- 
voke the  risibility  of  his  hearers.  Mr.  Young's  own 
clerk  was,  however,  a  very  worthy  man,  of  such  lofty 
aspirations  and  of  such  blameless  purity  of  life,  that 
in  making  him  Nature  made  the  very  ideal  of  a  village 
clerk  and  schoolmaster,  and  then  "broke  the  mould." 
His  grave  yet  kindly  countenance,  his  well-propor- 
tioned limbs  encased  in  breeches  and  gaiters  of  corded 
kerseymere,  and  the  natural  dignity  of  his  carriage, 
combined  "to  give  the  world  assurance  of"  a  bishop 
rather  than  a  clerk.  It  needed  familiarity  with  his 
inner  life  to  know  how  much  simpleness  of  purpose 
and  simplicity  of  mind  and  contentment  and  piety  lay 
hid  under  a  pompous  exterior  and  a  phraseology  some- 
what stilted. 

His  name  was  William  Hinton,  and  he  dwelt  in  a 
small  whitewashed  cottage  which,  by  virtue  of  his 
situation  as  schoolmaster,  he  enjoyed  rent  free.  It 
stood  in  the  heart  of  a  small  but  well-stocked  kitchen 
garden.  His  salary  was  £40  per  annum,  and  on  this, 
with  perhaps  £5  a  year  more  derived  from  church  fees, 
he  brought  up  five  children  in  the  greatest  respect- 


240  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

ability,  all  of  whom  did  well  in  life.  They  regarded 
their  father  with  absolute  veneration.  By  the  side  of 
the  labourer  who  only  knew  what  he  had  taught  him, 
or  of  the  farmer  who  knew  less,  he  was  a  giant  among 
pygmies — a  Triton  among  minnows. 

When  Mr.  Young  went  to  the  village,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  Bible,  a  Prayer  Book,  a  random  tract  or 
two,  and  a  Moore's  Almanac,  there  was  scarcely  a  book 
to  be  found  in  it.  The  rector  kindly  allowed  his  clerk 
the  run  of  his  well-stocked  library.  Hinton  devoured 
the  books  greedily.  So  receptive  and  imitative  was 
his  intellect  that  his  conversation,  his  deportment, 
even  his  spirit,  became  imbued  with  the  individuality 
of  the  author  whose  writings  he  had  been  studying. 
After  reading  Dr.  Johnson's  works  his  conversation 
became  sententious  and  dogmatic.  Lord  Chesterfield's 
Letters  produced  an  airiness  and  jauntiness  that  were 
quite  foreign  to  his  nature.  His  favourite  authors 
were  Jeremy  Taylor,  Bacon,  and  Milton.  After  many 
months  reverential  communion  with  these  Goliaths  of 
literature  he  became  pensive  and  contemplative,  and 
his  manner  more  chastened  and  severe.  The  secluded 
village  in  which  he  dwelt  had  been  his  birthplace,  and 
there  he  remained  to  the  day  of  his  death.  He  knew 
nothing  of  the  outer  world,  and  the  rector  found  his 
intercourse  with  a  man  so  original,  fresh,  and  untainted 
a  real  pleasure.  He  was  physically  timid,  and  the 
account  of  a  voyage  across  the  Channel  or  a  journey 
by  coach  filled  him  with  dread.  One  day  he  said  to 
Mr.  Young,  "Am  I,  reverend  sir,  to  understand  that 
you  voluntarily  trust  your  perishable  body  to  the  out- 
side of  a  vehicle,  of  the  soundness  of  which  you  know 
nothing,  and  suffer  yourself  to  be  drawn  to  and  fro  by 
four  strange  animals,  of  whose  temper  you  are  ignorant, 


SOME   OTHER  WORTHIES  241 

and  are  willing  to  be  driven  by  a  coachman  of  whose 
capacity  and  sobriety  you  are  uninformed?"  On  being 
assured  that  such  was  the  case,  he  concluded  that  "the 
love  of  risk  and  adventure  must  be  a  very  widely- 
spread  instinct,  seeing  that  so  many  people  are  ready 
to  expose  themselves  to  such  fearful  casualties."  He 
was  grateful  to  think  that  he  had  never  been  exposed 
to  such  terrific  hazards.  What  the  worthy  clerk  would 
have  said  concerning  the  risks  of  motoring  somewhat 
baffles  imagination. 

When  just  before  the  opening  of  the  Great  Western 
Railway  line  the  Company  ran  a  coach  through  the 
village  from  Bath  to  Swindon,  the  clerk  witnessed  with 
his  own  eyes  the  dangers  of  travelling.  The  school 
children  were  marshalled  in  line  to  welcome  the  coach, 
bouquets  of  laurestina  and  chrysanthema  were  ready 
to  be  bestowed  on  the  passengers,  the  church  bells 
rang  gaily,  when  after  long  waiting  the  cheery  notes 
of  the  key-bugle  sounded  the  familiar  strains  of 
"  Sodger  Laddie,"  and  the  steaming  steeds  hove  in 
sight,  an  accident  occurred.  At  a  sharp  turn  just 
opposite  the  clerk's  house  the  swaying  coach  over- 
turned, and  the  outside  passengers  were  thrown  into 
the  midst  of  his  much-prized  ash-leaf  kidneys.  The 
clerk  fled  precipitately  to  the  extreme  borders  of  his 
domain,  and  afterwards  said  to  the  rector,  "Ah,  sir, 
was  I  right  in  saying  I  would  never  enter  such  a 
dangerous  carriage  as  a  four-horse  coach?  I  assure 
you  I  was  not  the  least  surprised.  It  was  just  what  I 
expected." 

When  the  first  railway  train  passed  through  the 
village  he  was  overwhelmed  with  emotion  at  the  sight. 
He  fell  prostrate  on  the  bank  as  if  struck  by  a  thunder- 
bolt. When  he  stood  up  his  brain  reeled,  he  was 
R 


242  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

speechless,  and  stood  aghast,  unutterable  amazement 
stamped  upon  his  face.  In  the  tone  of  a  Jeremiah  he 
at  length  gasped  out,  "  Well,  sir,  what  a  sight  to  have 
seen  :  but  one  I  never  care  to  see  again  !  How  awful  ! 
I  tremble  to  think  of  it !  I  don't  know  what  to  com- 
pare it  to,  unless  it  be  to  a  messenger  despatched  from 
the  infernal  regions  with  a  commission  to  spread  desola- 
tion and  destruction  over  the  fair  land.  How  much 
longer  shall  knowledge  be  allowed  to  go  on  increas- 
ing?" 

The  rector  taught  the  clerk  how  to  play  chess,  to 
which  game  he  took  eagerly,  and  taught  it  to  the 
village  youths.  They  played  it  on  half-holidays  in 
winter  and  became  engrossed  in  it,  manufacturing 
chess-boards  out  of  old  book-covers  and  carving  very 
creditable  chessmen  out  of  bits  of  wood.  When  he 
was  playing  with  his  rector  one  evening  he  lost  his 
queen  and  at  once  resigned,  saying,  "I  consider, 
reverend  sir,  that  chess  without  a  queen  is  like  life 
without  a  female." 

Hinton  knew  not  a  word  of  Latin,  but  he  had  a 
pedantic  pleasure  in  introducing  it  whenever  he  could. 
Genders  were  ever  a  mystery  to  him,  though  with  the 
help  of  a  dictionary  he  would  often  substitute  a  Latin 
for  an  English  word.  Thus  he  used  the  signatures 
"  Gulielmus  Hintoniensis,  Rusticus  Sacrista,"  and 
when  writing  to  Mrs.  Young  he  always  addressed  her 
as  "  Charus  Domina."  On  this  lady's  return  after  a 
long  absence,  the  clerk  wrote  in  large  letters,  "Gratus, 
gratus,  optatus,"  and  dated  his  greeting,  "  Martius 
quinta,  1842."  A  funeral  notice  was  usually  sent  in 
doggerel. 

The  following  letter  was  sent  to  the  rector's  un- 
married sister : 


SOME   OTHER   WORTHIES  243 

..  ~  ~  "  famiartus  Prtma,  1840. 

"CHARUS  DOMINA, 

( 'That  the  humble  Sacrista  should  be  still  re- 
tained on  the  tablets  of  your  memory  is  an  unexpected 
pleasure.  Your  gift,  as  a  criterion  of  your  esteem, 
will  be  often  looked  at  with  delight,  and  be  carefully 
preserved,  as  a  memorial  of  your  friendship  ;  and  for 
which  I  beg  to  return  my  sincere  thanks.  May  the 
meridian  sunshine  of  happiness  brighten  your  days 
through  the  voyage  of  life  ;  and  may  your  soul  be 
borne  on  the  wings  of  seraphic  angels  to  the  realms  of 
bliss  eternal  in  the  world  to  come  is  the  sincere  wish 
and  fervent  prayer  of  Charus  Domina,  your  most 
obedient,  most  respectful,  most  obliged  servant, 

"GlJLIELMUS    HlNTONIENSIS, 

" Rusticus  Sacrista. 

"  GRATITUDE 

"  A  gift  from  the  virtuous,  the  fair,  and  the  good, 

From  the  affluent  to  the  humble  and  low, 
Is  a  favour  so  great,  so  obliging  and  kind, 

To  acknowledge  I  scarcely  know  how. 
I  fain  would  express  the  sensations  I  feel, 

By  imploring  the  blessing  of  Heaven 
May  be  showered  on  the  lovely,  the  amiable  maid, 

Who  this  gift  to  Sacrista  has  given. 
May  the  choicest  of  husbands,  the  best  of  his  kind, 

Be  hers  by  the  appointment  of  Heaven  ! 
And  may  sweet  smiling  infants  as  pledges  of  love 

To  crown  her  connubium  be  given." 

The  following  is  a  characteristic  note  of  this  worthy 
clerk,  which  differs  somewhat  from  the  notices  usually 
sent  to  vicars  as  reminders  of  approaching  weddings: 

"REV.  SIR, 

"I  hope  it  has  not  escaped  your  memory  that 
the  young  couple  at  Clack  are  hoping  to  offer  incense 
at  the  shrine  of  Venus  this  morning  at  the  hour  of  ten. 
I  anticipate  the  bridegrooms's  anxiety. 

"  RUSTICUS  SACRISTA," 


244  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

He  was  somewhat  curious  on  the  subject  of  fashion- 
able ladies'  dresses,  and  once  asked  the  rector  "in  what 
guise  feminine  respectability  usually  appeared  at  an 
evening  party?"  When  a  low  dress  was  described  to 
him,  he  blushed  and  shivered  and  exclaimed,  "Then 
methinks,  sir,  there  must  be  revelations  of  much  which 
modesty  would  gladly  veil."  He  was  terribly  over- 
come on  one  occasion  when  he  met  in  the  rector's 
drawing-room  one  evening  some  ladies  who  were 
attired,  as  any  other  gentlewomen  would  be,  in  low 
gowns. 

William  Hinton  was,  in  spite  of  his  air  of  import- 
ance and  his  inflated  phraseology,  a  simple,  single- 
minded,  humble  soul.  When  the  rector  visited  him  on 
his  death-bed,  he  greeted  Mr.  Young  with  as  much 
serenity  of  manner  as  if  he  had  been  only  going  on  a 
journey  to  a  far  country  for  which  he  had  long  been 
preparing.  "Well,  reverend  and  dear  sir.  Here  we 
are,  you  see !  come  to  the  nightcap  scene  at  last ! 
Doubtless  you  can  discern  that  I  am  dying.  I  am 
not  afraid  to  die.  I  wish  your  prayers.  ...  I  say 
I  am  not  afraid  to  die,  and  you  know  why.  Because 
I  know  in  whom  I  have  believed  ;  and  I  am  persuaded 
that  He  is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed 
unto  Him  against  that  day."  A  little  later  he  said, 
"Thanks,  reverend  sir!  Thanks  for  much  goodwill  ! 
Thanks  for  much  happy  intercourse  !  For  nearly  seven 
years  we  have  been  friends  here.  I  trust  we  shall 
be  still  better  friends  hereafter.  I  shall  not  see  you 
again  on  this  side  Jordan.  I  fear  not  to  cross  over. 
Good-bye.  My  Joshua  beckons  me.  The  Promised 
Land  is  in  sight." 

This  worthy  and  much-mourned  clerk  was  buried  on 
5 


CHAPTER  XIX 
THE   CLERK   AND  THE   LAW 

THE  parish  clerk  is  so  important  a  person  that 
divers  laws  have  been  framed  relating  to  his 
office.  His  appointment,  his  rights,  his  dismissal  are 
so  closely  regulated  by  law  that  incumbents  and  church- 
wardens have  to  be  very  careful  lest  they  in  any  way 
transgress  the  legal  enactments  and  judgments  of  the 
courts.  It  is  not  an  easy  matter  to  dismiss  an  un- 
desirable clerk  :  it  is  almost  as  difficult  as  to  disturb 
the  parson's  freehold  ;  and  unless  the  clerk  be  found 
guilty  of  grievous  faults,  he  may  laugh  to  scorn  the 
malice  of  his  enemies  and  retain  his  office  while  life 
lasts. 

It  may  be  useful,  therefore,  to  devote  a  chapter  to  the 
laws  relating  to  parish  clerks — a  chapter  which  some 
of  my  readers  who  have  no  liking  for  legal  techni- 
calities can  well  afford  to  skip. 

As  regards  his  qualifications  the  clerk  must  be  at 
least  twenty  years  of  age,  and  known  to  the  parson 
as  a  man  of  honest  conversation,  and  sufficient  for  his 
reading,  writing,  and  for  his  competent  skill  in  sing- 
ing, "if  it  may  be."1  The  visitation  articles  of  the 
seventeenth  century  frequently  inquire  whether  the 
clerk  be  of  the  age  of  twenty  years  at  least. 

1  Canon  91  (1603). 
245 


246  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

The  method  of  his  appointment  has  caused  much 
disputing.  With  whom  does  the  appointment  rest? 
In  former  times  the  parish  clerk  was  always  nominated 
by  the  incumbent  both  by  common  law  and  the  custom 
of  the  realm.  This  is  borne  out  by  the  constitution 
of  Archbishop  Boniface  and  the  gist  Canon,  which 
states  that  "No  parish  clerk  upon  any  vacation  shall 
be  chosen  within  the  city  of  London  or  elsewhere,  but 
by  the  parson  or  vicar  :  or  where  there  is  no  parson  or 
vicar,  by  the  minister  of  that  place  for  the  time  being  ; 
which  choice  shall  be  signified  by  the  said  minister, 
vicar  or  parson,  to  the  parishioners  the  next  Sunday 
following,  in  the  time  of  Divine  Service." 

But  this  arrangement  has  often  been  the  subject  of 
dispute  between  the  parson  and  his  flock  as  to  the  right 
of  the  former  to  appoint  the  clerk.  In  pre-Reformation 
times  there  was  a  diversity  of  practice,  some  parish- 
ioners claiming  the  right  to  elect  the  clerk,  as  they 
provided  the  offerings  by  which  he  lived.  A  terrible 
scene  occurred  in  the  fourteenth  century  at  one  church. 
The  parishioners  appointed  a  clerk,  and  the  rector 
selected  another.  The  rector  was  celebrating  Mass, 
assisted  by  his  clerk,  when  the  people's  candidate 
approached  the  altar  and  nearly  murdered  his  rival,  so 
that  blood  was  shed  in  the  sanctuary. 

Custom  in  many  churches  sanctioned  the  right  of  the 
parishioners,  who  sometimes  neglected  to  exercise  it, 
and  the  choice  of  clerk  was  left  to  the  vicar.  The 
visitations  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth  show  that  the  people 
were  expected  to  appoint  to  the  office,  but  the  episcopal 
inquiries  also  demonstrate  that  the  parson  or  vicar 
could  exercise  a  veto,  and  that  no  one  could  be  chosen 
without  his  goodwill  and  consent. 

The   canon  of  1603  was  an  attempt  to  change  this 


THE   CLERK   AND  THE   LAW  247 

variety  of  usage,  but  such  is  the  force  of  custom  that 
many  decisions  of  the  spiritual  courts  have  been 
against  the  canon  and  in  favour  of  accustomed  usage 
when  such  could  be  proved.  It  was  so  in  the  case  of 
Cundict  v.  Plomer  (8  Jac.  I),1  and  in  Jermyri's  Case 
(21  Jac.  I). 

At  the  present  time  such  disputes  with  regard  to  the 
appointment  of  clerks  are  unlikely  to  arise.  They  are 
usually  elected  to  their  office  by  the  vestry,  and  the 
person  recommended  by  the  vicar  is  generally  ap- 
pointed. Indeed,  by  the  Act  7  &  8  Victoria,  c.  49,  "  for 
better  regulating  the  office  of  Lecturers  and  Parish 
Clerks,"  it  is  provided  that  when  the  appointment  is  by 
others  than  the  parson,  it  is  to  be  subject  to  the  ap- 
proval of  the  parson.  Owing  to  the  difficulty  of 
dismissing  a  clerk,  to  which  I  shall  presently  refer,  it 
is  not  unusual  to  appoint  a  gentleman  or  farmer  to  the 
office,  and  to  nominate  a  deputy  to  discharge  the  actual 
duties.  If  we  may  look  forward  to  a  revival  of  the 
office  and  to  a  restoration  of  its  ancient  dignity  and 
importance,  it  might  be  possible  for  the  more  highly 
educated  man  to  perform  the  chief  functions,  the  read- 
ing the  lessons  and  epistle,  serving  at  the  altar,  and 
other  like  duties,  while  his  deputy  could  perform  the 
more  menial  functions,  opening  the  church,  ringing 
the  bell,  digging  graves,  if  there  be  no  sexton,  and 
the  like. 

It  is  not  absolutely  necessary  that  the  clerk,  after 
having  been  chosen  and  appointed,  should  be  licensed 
by  the  ordinary,  but  this  is  not  unusual  ;  and  when 
licensed  he  is  sworn  to  obey  the  incumbent  of  the 
parish.2 

We  have  recorded  some  of  the  perquisites,  fees  and 

1  Ecclesiastical  Law,  Sir  R.  Phillimore,  p.  1901.  a  Ibid.,  1902. 


248  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

wages,  which  the  clerk  of  ancient  times  was  accus- 
tomed to  receive  when  he  had  been  duly  appointed. 
No  longer  does  he  receive  accustomed  alms  by  reason 
of  his  office  of  aqucebajalus.  No  longer  does  he  derive 
profit  from  bearing  the  holy  loaf;  and  the  cakes  and 
eggs  at  Easter,  and  certain  sheaves  at  harvest-tide,  are 
perquisites  of  the  past. 

The  following  were  the  accustomed  wages  of  the 
clerk  at  Rempstone  in  the  year  1629 : 1 

"22nd  November,  1629. 

"The  wages  of  the  Clarke  of  the  Parish  Church  of  Remp- 
stone. At  Easter  yearely  he  is  to  have  of  every  Husbandman 
one  pennie  for  every  yard  land  he  hath  in  occupation.  And 
of  every  Cottager  two  pence. 

"  Furthermore  he  is  to  have  for  every  yard  land  one  peche 
of  Barley  of  the  Husbandman  yearely. 

"  Egges  at  Easter  by  Courtesie. 

"  For  every  marriage  two  pence.  And  at  the  churching  of 
a  woman  his  dinner. 

"The  said  Barley  is  to  be  payed  between  Christmasse  and 
the  Feast  of  the  Annunciation  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary." 

Clerk's  Ales  have  vanished,  too,  together  with  the 
cakes  and  eggs,  but  his  fees  remain,  and  marriage 
bells  and  funeral  knells,  christenings  and  churchings 
bring  to  him  the  accustomed  dues  and  offerings.  Tables 
of  Fees  hang  in  most  churches.  It  is  important  to  have 
them  in  order  that  no  dispute  may  arise.  The  follow- 
ing table  appears  in  the  parish  books  of  Salehurst, 
Sussex,  and  is  curious  and  interesting  : 

"April  1 8,  1597. 

"Memorandum  that  the  duties  for  Churchinge  of  women 
in  the  parishe  of  Salehurst  is  unto  the  minister  ixdob.  and 
unto  the  Clarke  ijd. 

1  The  Clerks'  Book,  Dr.  Wickham  Legg,  Iv. 


THE  CLERK  AND  THE  LAW       249 

*'  Item  the  due  unto  the  minister  for  a  marriadge  is  xxjd. 
And  unto  the  Clarke  ijd.  the  Banes,  and  iiijd.  the  marriadge. 
"  Item  due  for  burialls  as  followeth 

To  the  Minister  in  the  Chancell        .         .     xiiis.   iiijd. 
To  the  Clarke  in  the  Chancell  .         .       vis.viiijd. 

To  the  Parish  in  the  Church     .         .         .       vis.  viiid. 
To  the  Clarke  in  the  Church     .         .         .   '     vs.     od. 
To  the  Clarke  in  the  churchyard  for  great 

coffins  .......         iis.    vid. 

For  great  Corses  uncoffined     .         .         .         iis.     od. 
For  Chrisomers  and  such  like  coffined     .          is.   iiiid. 
And  uncoffined         .....  xijd. 

For  tolling  the  passing  bell  and  houre      .         is. 
For  ringing  the  sermon  bell  an  houre      .         is.      od. 
To  the  Clarke  for  carrying  the  beere        .  iiijd. 

If  it  be  fetched         .....  ijd. 

"  Item  for  funerals  the  Minister  is  to  have  the  mourning 
pullpit  Cloth  and  the  Clarke  the  herst  Cloth. 

"  Item  the  Minister  hathe  ever  chosen  the  parishe  Clarke 
and  one  of  the  Churchwardens  and  bothe  the  Sydemen. 

"  Item  if  they  bring  a  beere  or  poles  with  the  corps  the 
Clarke  is  to  have  them. 

"  If  any  Corps  goe  out  of  the  parish  they  are  to  pay  double 
dutyes  and  to  have  leave. 

"  If  any  Corps  come  out  of  another  parish  to  be  buryed 
here,  they  are  to  pay  double  dutyes  besides  breakinge  the 
ground  ;  which  is  xiijs.  4d.  in  the  church,  and  vis.  viiid.  in 
the  churchyard. 

"  For  marryage  by  licence  double  fees  both  to  the  Minister 
and  Clarke."1 

In  addition  to  the  fees  to  which  the  clerk  is  entitled 
by  long-established  custom,  he  receives  wages,  which 
he  can  recover  by  law  if  he  be  unjustly  deprived  of 
them.  Churchwardens  who  in  the  old  days  neglected 
to  levy  a  church  rate  in  order  to  pay  the  expenses  of 

1  Sussex  Archaeological  Collections,  1873,  vol.  xxv.  p.  154. 


250  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

the  parish  and  the  salary  of  the  clerk,  have  been  com- 
pelled by  law  to  do  so,  in  order  to  satisfy  the  clerk's 
claims. 

The  wages  which  he  received  varied  considerably. 
The  churchwardens'  accounts  reveal  the  amounts  paid 
the  holders  of  the  office  at  different  periods.  At  St. 
Mary's,  Reading,  there  are  the  items  in  1557  : 

"  Imprimis  the  Rent  of  the  Clerke's 

howse  ......  vis.  viiid." 

"  Paid  to  Marshall  (the  clerk)  for  parcell  of 
his  wages  that  he  was  unpaide  .  .  vs." 

In  1561  the  clerk's  wages  were  403.,  in  1586  only  203. 
At  St.  Giles's,  Reading,  in  1520,  he  received  265.  8d., 
as  the  following  entry  shows  : 

"  Paid  to  Harry  Water  Clerk  for  his 
wage  for  a  yere  ended  at  thannacon 
(the  Annunciation)  of  Our  Lady  .  xxvis.  viii." 

The  clerk  at  St.  Lawrence,  Reading,  received  205. 
for  his  services  in  1547.  Owing  to  the  decrease  in  the 
value  of  money  the  wages  gradually  rose  in  town 
churches,  but  in  the  eighteenth  century  in  many 
country  places  IDS.  was  deemed  sufficient.  The  sum  of 
.£10  is  not  an  unusual  wage  at  the  present  time  for  a 
village  clerk. 

The  dismissal  of  a  parish  clerk  was  a  somewhat  diffi- 
cult and  dangerous  task.  In  the  eyes  of  the  law  he  is 
no  menial  servant — no  labourer  who  can  be  discharged 
if  he  fail  to  please  his  master.  The  law  regards  him 
•as  an  officer  for  life,  and  one  who  has  a  freehold  in  his 
place.  Sixty  years  ago  no  ecclesiastical  court  could 
deprive  him  of  his  office,  but  he  could  be  censured 
for  his  faults  and  misdemeanours,  though  not  dis- 
charged. Several  cases  have  appeared  in  the  law 


THE   CLERK   AND  THE   LAW  251 

courts  which  have  decided  that  as  long  as  a  clerk  be- 
haves himself  well,  he  has  a  good  right  and  title  to 
continue  in  his  office.  Thus  in  Rex  v.  Erasmus 
Warren  (16  Geo.  Ill)  it  was  shown  that  the  clerk  be- 
came bankrupt,  had  been  guilty  of  many  omissions  in 
his  office,  was  actually  in  prison  at  the  time  of  his 
amoval,  and  had  appointed  a  deputy  who  was  totally 
unfit  for  the  office.  Against  which  it  was  insisted  that 
the  office  of  parish  clerk  was  a  temporal  office  during 
life,  that  the  parson  could  not  remove  him,  and  that  he 
had  a  right  to  appoint  a  deputy.  One  of  the  judges 
stated  that  though  the  minister  might  have  power  of 
removing  the  clerk  on  a  good  and  sufficient  cause,  he 
could  never  be  the  sole  judge  and  remove  him  at 
pleasure,  without  being  subject  to  the  control  of  the 
court.  No  misbehaviour  of  consequence  was  proved 
against  him,  and  the  clerk  was  restored  to  his  office. 

In  a  more  recent  case  the  clerk  had  conducted  him- 
self on  several  occasions  by  designedly  irreverent  and 
ridiculous  behaviour  in  his  performance  of  his  duty. 
He  had  appeared  in  church  drunk,  and  had  indecently 
disturbed  the  congregation  during  the  administration 
of  Holy  Communion.  He  had  been  repeatedly  re- 
proved by  the  vicar,  and  finally  removed  from  his 
office.  But  the  court  decided  that  because  the  clerk 
had  not  been  summoned  to  answer  for  his  conduct 
before  his  removal,  a  mandamus  should  be  issued  for 
his  restoration  to  his  office.1 

No  deputy  clerk  when  removed  can  claim  to  be 
restored.  It  will  be  gathered,  therefore,  that  an  incum- 
bent is  compelled  by  law  to  restore  a  clerk  removed  by 
him  without  just  cause,  that  the  justice  of  the  cause 
is  not  determined  in  the  law  courts  by  an  ex-parte  state- 

1  Ecclesiastical  Law,  Sir  R.  Phillimore,  p.  1907. 


252  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

ment  of  the  incumbent,  and  that  an  accused  clerk  must 
have  an  opportunity  of  answering  the  charges  made 
against  him.  If  a  man  performs  the  duties  of  the 
office  for  one  year  he  gains  a  settlement,  and  cannot 
afterwards  be  removed  without  just  cause. 

An  important  Act  was  passed  in  1844,  to  which  I 
have  already  referred,  for  the  better  regulating  the  office 
of  lecturers  and  parish  clerks.  Sections  5  and  6  of 
this  Act  bear  directly  on  the  method  of  removal  of  a 
clerk  who  may  be  guilty  of  neglect  or  misbehaviour. 
I  will  endeavour  to  divest  the  wording  of  the  Act  from 
legal  technicalities,  and  write  it  in  "  plain  English." 

If  a  complaint  is  made  to  the  archdeacon,  or  other 
ordinary,  with  regard  to  the  misconduct  of  a  clerk, 
stating  that  he  is  an  unfit  and  improper  person  to 
hold  that  office,  the  archdeacon  may  summon  the  clerk 
and  call  witnesses  who  shall  be  able  to  give  evidence 
or  information  with  regard  to  the  charges  made.  He 
can  examine  these  witnesses  upon  oath,  and  hear  and 
determine  the  truth  of  the  accusations  which  have 
been  made  against  the  clerk.  If  he  should  find  these 
charges  proved  he  may  suspend  or  remove  the 
offender  from  his  office,  and  give  a  certificate  under  his 
hand  and  seal  to  the  incumbent,  declaring  the  office 
vacant,  which  certificate  should  be  affixed  to  the  door 
of  the  church.  Then  another  person  may  be  elected  or 
appointed  to  the  vacant  office:  "Provided  always, 
that  the  exercise  of  such  office  by  a  sufficient  deputy 
who  shall  duly  and  faithfully  perform  the  duties  thereof, 
and  in  all  respects  well  and  properly  demean  himself, 
shall  not  be  deemed  a  wilful  neglect  of  his  office  on  the 
part  of  such  church  clerk,  chapel  clerk,  or  parish  clerk, 
so  as  to  render  him  liable,  for  such  cause  alone,  to 
be  suspended  or  removed  therefrom." 


THE   CLERK   AND  THE   LAW  253 

A  special  section  of  the  Act  deals  with  such  posses- 
sions as  clerks'  houses,  buildings,  lands  or  premises, 
held  by  a  clerk  by  virtue  of  his  office.  If,  when 
deprived  of  his  office,  he  should  refuse  to  give  up  such 
buildings  or  possessions,  the  matter  must  be  brought 
before  the  bishop  of  the  diocese,  who  shall  summon  the 
clerk  to  appear  before  him.  If  he  fail  to  appear,  or 
if  the  bishop  should  decide  against  him,  the  bishop 
shall  grant  a  certificate  of  the  facts  to  the  person  or 
persons  entitled  to  the  possession  of  the  land  or 
premises,  who  may  thereupon  go  before  a  justice  of  the 
peace.  The  magistrate  shall  then  issue  his  warrant  to 
the  constables  to  expel  the  clerk  from  the  premises, 
and  to  hand  them  over  to  the  rightful  owners,  the  cost 
of  executing  the  warrant  being  levied  upon  the  goods 
and  chattels  of  the  expelled  clerk.  If  this  cost  should 
be  disputed,  it  shall  be  determined  by  the  magistrate. 
Happily  few  cases  arise,  but  perhaps  it  is  well  to  know 
the  procedure  which  the  law  lays  down  for  the  carrying 
out  of  such  troublesome  matters. 

The  law  also  takes  cognizance  of  the  humbler  office 
of  sexton,  the  duties  of  which  are  usually  combined  in 
country  places  with  those  of  the  parish  clerk.  The 
sexton  is,  of  course,  the  sacristan,  the  keeper  of  the 
holy  things  relating  to  divine  worship,  and  seems  to 
correspond  with  the  ostarius  in  the  Roman  Church. 
His  duties  consist  in  the  care  of  the  church,  the  vest- 
ments and  vessels,  in  keeping  the  church  clean,  in 
ringing  the  bells,  in  opening  and  closing  the  doors  for 
divine  service,  and  to  these  the  task  of  digging  graves 
and  the  care  of  the  churchyard  are  also  added.  He  is 
appointed  by  the  churchwardens  if  his  duties  be  con- 
fined to  the  church,  but  if  he  is  employed  in  the 
churchyard  the  appointment  is  vested  in  the  rector.  If 


254  THE    PARISH  CLERK 

his  duties  embrace  the  care  of  both  church  and  church- 
yard, he  should  be  appointed  by  the  churchwardens 
and  incumbent  jointly.1 

Many  cases  have  come  before  the  law  courts  relating 
to  sextons  and  their  election  and  appointment.  He 
does  not  usually  hold  the  same  fixity  of  tenure  as  the 
parish  clerk,  he  being  a  servant  of  the  parish  rather 
than  an  officer  or  one  that  has  a  freehold  in  his  place  ; 
but  in  some  cases  a  sexton  has  determined  his  right  to 
hold  the  office  for  life,  and  gained  a  mandamus  from 
the  court  to  be  restored  to  his  position  after  having 
been  removed  by  the  churchwardens. 

The  law  has  also  decided  that  women  may  be  ap- 
pointed sextons. 

1  Ecclesiastical  La-w,  p.  1914. 


CHAPTER  XX 

RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD   CLERKS   AND 
THEIR   WAYS 

T)ERSONAL    recollections    of    the    manners    and 

1      curious  ways  of  old  village  clerks  are  valuable, 

and  several  writers  have  kindly  favoured  me  with  the 

descriptions   of   these    quaint    personages,    who    were 

well  known  to  them  in  the  days  of  their  youth. 

The  clerk  of  a  Midland  village  was  an  old  man  who 
combined  with  his  sacred  functions  the  secular  calling 
of  the  keeper  of  the  village  inn.  He  was  very  deaf, 
and  consequently  spoke  in  a  loud,  harsh  voice,  and 
scraps  of  conversation  which  were  heard  in  the  squire's 
high  square  box  pew  occasioned  much  amusement 
among  the  squire's  sons.  The  Rev.  W.  V.  Vickers 
records  the  following  incidents  : 

It  was  "Sacrament  Sunday,"  and  part  of  the  clerk's 
duty  was  to  prepare  the  Elements  in  the  vestry,  which 
was  under  the  western  tower.  Apparently  the  wine 
was  not  forthcoming  when  wanted,  and  we  heard  the 
following  stage-aside  in  broad  Staffordshire:  "  Weir's 
the  bottle?  Oh  !  'ere  it  is,  under  the  teeble  (table)  all 
the  whoile." 

Another  part  of  his  duty  was  to  sing  in  the  choir, 
for  which  purpose  he  used  to  leave  the  lower  deck  of 
the  three-decker  and  hobble  with  his  heavy  oak  stick  to 

255 


256  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

the  chancel  for  the  canticles  and  hymns,  and  having 
swelled  the  volume  of  praise,  hobble  back  again,  a 
pause  being  made  for  his  journey  both  to  and  fro.  Not 
only  did  he  sing  in  the  choir  but  he  gave  out  the 
hymns.  This  he  did  in  a  peculiar  sing-song  voice 
with  up-and-down  cadences:  "  Let  us  sing  (low)  to 
the  praise  (high)  and  glory  (low)  of  God  (high)  the 
hundredth  (low)  psalm  (high)."  Very  much  the  same 
intonation  accompanied  his  reading  of  the  alternate 
verses  of  the  Psalms. 

On  one  occasion  a  locum  tenens,  who  officiated  for  a 
few  weeks,  was  stone  deaf.  Hence  a  difficulty  arose 
in  his  knowing  when  our  worthy,  and  the  congrega- 
tion, had  finished  each  response  or  verse.  This  the 
clerk  got  over  by  keeping  one  hand  well  forward  upon 
his  book  and  raising  the  fingers  as  he  came  to  the 
close.  This  was  the  signal  to  the  deaf  man  above  him 
that  it  was  his  turn  !  The  old  man,  by  half  sitting 
upon  a  table  in  the  belfry,  could  chime  the  four  bells. 
It  was  his  habit,  instead  of  going  by  his  watch,  to  look 
out  for  the  first  appearance  of  my  father's  carriage  (an 
old-fashioned  "britska,"  I  believe  it  was  called,  with 
yellow  body  and  wheels  and  large  black  hood,  and  so 
very  conspicuous)  at  a  certain  part  of  the  road,  and 
then,  and  not  till  then,  commence  chiming.  It  was 
a  compliment  to  my  father's  punctuality ;  but  what 
happened  when,  by  chance,  he  failed  to  attend  church 
I  know  not — but  such  occasions  were  rare.1 

1  In  olden  days  it  seems  to  have  been  the  usual  practice  in  many 
churches  to  delay  service  until  the  advent  of  the  squire.  Every  one 
knows  the  old  story  of  how,  through  some  inadvertence,  the  minister  had 
not  looked  out  to  see  that  the  great  man  was  in  his  accustomed  pew. 

He  began,  "When  the  wicked  man "     The  parish  clerk  tugged  him 

by  his  coat,  saying,  "  Please,  sir,  he  hasn't  come  yet !  "  As  to  whether 
the  clergyman  took  the  hint  and  waited  for  "the  wicked  man  "  history 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD   CLERKS          257 

Our  parish  church  we  seldom  attended,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  the  aged  vicar  was  scarcely  audible  ;  but 
there  the  clerk,  after  robing  the  vicar,  mounted  to  the 
gallery  above  the  vestry,  where,  taking  a  front  seat,  he 
watched  for  the  exit  of  the  vicar  (whose  habit  it  was  to 
wait  for  the  young  men,  who  also  waited  in  the  church 
porch  for  him  to  begin  the  service  !),  and  then,  taking 
his  seat  at  the  organ,  commenced  the  voluntary.  It  was 
his  duty  also  to  give  out  the  hymns.  I  have  known 
him  play  an  eight-line  tune  to  a  four-line  verse  (or 
psalm — we  used  Tate  and  Brady),  repeating  the  words 
of  each  verse  twice  ! 

The  organ  produced  the  most  curious  sounds.  In 
course  of  time  the  mice  got  into  it,  and  the  church- 
wardens, of  whom  the  clerk  was  one,  approached  the 
vicar  with  the  information,  at  the  same  time  venturing 
a  hint  that  the  organ  was  quite  worn  out  and  that  a 
harmonium  would  be  more  acceptable  to  the  congrega- 
tion than  the  present  music.  His  reply  was  that  a 
harmonium  was  not  a  sufficiently  sacred  instrument, 
and  added,  "  Let  a  mouse-trap  be  set  at  once." 

Robert  Dicker,  quondam  cabinet-maker  in  the  town 
of  Crediton,  Devon,  reigned  for  many  years  as  parish 
clerk  to  the,  at  one  time,  collegiate  church  of  the  same 
town.  He  appears  to  have  fulfilled  his  office  satisfac- 
torily up  to  about  1870,  when  his  mind  became  some- 

sayeth  not.  Another  clerk  told  a  young-  deacon,  who  was  impatient  to 
beg-in  the  service,  "You  must  wait  a  bit,  sir,  we  ain't  ready."  He  then 
clambered  on  the  Communion  table,  and  peered  through  the  east 
window,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  door  in  the  wall  of  the  squire's 
garden.  "Come  down!"  shouted  the  curate.  "  I  can  see  best  where  I 
be,"  replied  the  imperturbable  clerk ;  "  I'm  watching  the  garden  door. 
Here  she  be,  and  the  squire."  Whereupon  he  clambered  down  again, 
and  without  much  further  delay  the  service  proceeded, 

S 


258  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

what  feeble.  Nevertheless,  no  desire  was  apparent  to 
shorten  the  days  of  his  office,  as  he  was  regular  in  his 
attendance  and  musically  inclined  ;  but  when  he  began 
to  play  pranks  upon  the  vicar  it  became  necessary  to 
consider  the  advisability  of  finding  a  substitute  who 
should  do  the  work  and  receive  half  the  pay.  One  of 
his  escapades  was  to  stand  up  in  the  middle  of  service 
and  call  the  vicar  a  liar ;  at  another  time  he  announced 
that  a  wedding  was  to  take  place  on  a  certain  day. 
The  vicar,  therefore,  attended  and  waited  for  an  hour, 
when  the  clerk  affirmed  that  he  must  have  dreamed 
it !  Dicker  was  given  to  the  study  of  astronomy,  and 
it  is  related  that  he  once  gave  a  lecture  on  this  sub- 
ject in  the  Public  Rooms.  There  is  close  to  the  town 
a  small  park  in  memory  of  one  of  the  Duller  family. 
A  man  one  night  was  much  alarmed  when  walking 
therein  to  discover  a  bright  light  in  one  of  the  trees, 
and,  later,  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  worthy  clerk,  who 
addressed  him  in  these  words  :  u  Fear  not,  my  friend, 
and  do  not  be  affrighted.  I  am  Robert  Dicker,  clerk 
of  the  parish.  I  am  examining  the  stars."  Another 
account  alleges  that  he  affirmed  himself  to  be  "  count- 
ing the  stars."  Whichever  account  is  the  true  one,  it 
will  be  gathered  that  he  was  already  "far  gone." 

Another  of  his  achievements  was  the  conversion 
of  a  barrel  organ,  purchased  from  a  neighbouring 
church,  into  a  manual,  obtaining  the  wind  therefor 
by  a  pedal  arrangement  which  worked  a  large  wheel 
attached  to  a  crank  working  the  bellows.  On  all  great 
festivals  and  especially  on  Christmas  Day  he  was  wont 
to  rouse  the  neighbourhood  as  early  as  three  and  four 
o'clock,  remarking  of  the  ungrateful,  complaining 
neighbours  that  they  had  no  heart  for  music  or  re- 
ligion. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  OLD  CLERKS          259 

The  wheel  mentioned  above  was  part  of  one  of  his 
tricycle  schemes.  His  first  attempt  in  cycle-making 
resulted  in  the  construction  of  a  bicycle  the  wheels  of 
which  resembled  the  top  of  a  round  deal  table  ;  this 
soon  came  to  grief.  His  second  endeavour  was  more 
successful  and  became  a  tricycle,  the  wheels  of  which 
were  made  of  wrought  iron  and  the  base  of  a  triangular 
shape.  Upon  the  large  end  he  placed  an  arm-chair, 
averring  that  it  would  be  useful  to  rest  in  whenever 
he  should  grow  weary !  Then,  making  another  at- 
tempt, he  succeeded  in  turning  out  (being  aided  by 
another  person)  a  very  respectable  and  useful  tricycle 
upon  which  he  made  many  journeys  to  Barnstaple  and 
elsewhere. 

However,  just  as  an  end  comes  to  everything  that  is 
mortal,  so  did  an  end  come  to  our  friend  the  clerk  ;  for, 
as  so  many  stories  finish,  he  died  in  a  good  old  age, 
and  his  substitute  reigned  in  his  stead. 

The  following  reminiscences  of  a  parish  clerk  were 
sent  by  the  Rev.  Augustus  G.  Legge,  who  has  since 
died. 

It  is  reported  of  an  enthusiastic  archaeologian  that 
he  blessed  the  day  of  the  Commonwealth  because,  he 
said,  if  Cromwell  and  all  his  destructive  followers  had 
never  lived,  there  would  have  been  no  ruins  in  the 
country  to  repay  the  antiquary's  researches.  And  the 
converse  of  this  is  true  of  a  race  of  men  who  before 
long  will  be  "  improved  "  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  if 
the  restoration  of  our  parish  churches  is  to  go  on  at  the 
present  rate.  I  allude  to  the  old  parish  clerks  of  our  boy- 
hood days.  Who  does  not  remember  their  quaint  figures 
and  quainter,  though  somewhat  irreverent,  manner  of 
leading  the  responses  of  the  congregation?  It  is  well 


26o  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

indeed  that  our  churches,  sadly  given  over  to  the  laxity 
and  carelessness  of  a  bygone  age,  should  be  renovated 
and  beautified,  the  tone  of  the  services  raised,  and  the 
"bray"  of  the  old  clerks,  unsuited  to  the  devotional 
feelings  of  a  more  enlightened  day,  silenced,  but  still 
a  shade  of  regret  will  be  mingled  with  their  dismissal, 
if  only  for  the  sake  of  the  large  stock  of  amusing  anec- 
dotes which  their  names  recall. 

My  earliest  recollections  are  connected  with  old 
Russell,1  my  father's  clerk.  He  was  a  little  man  but 
possessed  of  a  consequential  manner  sufficient  for  a 
giant.  A  shoemaker  by  trade,  his  real  element  was 
in  the  church.  His  conversation  was  embellished  by 
high-flown  grandiloquence,  and  he  invariably  walked 
upon  the  heels  of  his  boots.  This  latter  peculiarity, 
as  may  well  be  imagined,  was  the  cause  of  a  most 
comical  effect  whenever  he  had  occasion  to  leave  his 
seat  and  clatter  down  the  aisle  of  the  church.  How 
often  when  a  boy  did  I  make  my  old  nurse's  sides  shake 
with  laughter  by  imitating  old  Russell's  walk  !  His 
manner  of  reading  the  responses  in  the  service  can  only 
be  compared  to  a  kind  of  bellow — as  my  father  used  to 
say,  "  he  bellowed  like  a  calf" — and  his  rendering  of 
parts  of  it  was  calculated  to  raise  a  smile  upon  the  lips 
of  the  most  devout.  The  following  are  a  few  instances 
of  his  perversions  of  the  text.  "  Leviathan"  under 
his  quaint  manipulation  became  "leather  thing,"  his 
trade  of  shoemaker  helping  him,  no  doubt,  to  has  inter- 
pretation. Whether  he  had  ever  attended  a  fish-dinner 
at  Greenwich  and  his  mind  had  thus  become  impressed 
with  the  number  and  variety  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
deep,  history  does  not  record,  but,  be  that  as  it  may, 

1  Old  Russell,  for  many  years  clerk  of  the  parish  of  East  Lavant  in 
the  county  of  Sussex. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD   CLERKS          261 

"Bring  hither  the  tabret"  was  invariably  read  as 
"  Bring  hither  the  turbot."  "Shadrach,  Meshach,  and 
Abednego "  did  service  for  "Ananias,  Azarias,  and 
Misael  "  in  the  "  Benedicite,"  and  "Destructions  are 
come  to  a  perpetual  end "  was  transmogrified  into 
"parental  end  "  in  the  ninth  Psalm.  My  father  once  took 
the  trouble  to  point  out  and  try  to  correct  some  of  his 
inaccuracies,  but  he  never  attempted  it  again.  Old 
Russell  listened  attentively  and  respectfully,  but  when 
the  lecture  was  over  he  dismissed  the  subject  with  a 
superior  shake  of  the  head  and  the  disdainful  remark, 
"Well,  sir,  I  have  heerd  tell  of  people  who  think 
with  you."  Never  a  bit  though  did  he  make  any 
change  in  his  own  peculiar  rendering  of  the  Bible  and 
Book  of  Common  Prayer. 

There  was  one  occasion  on  which  he  especially  dis- 
tinguished himself,  and  I  shall  never  forget  it.  A 
farmyard  of  six  outbuildings  abutted  upon  the  church 
burial  ground,  and  it  was  but  natural  that  all  the  fowls 
should  stray  into  it  to  feed  and  enjoy  themselves  in 
the  grass.  Amongst  these  was  a  goodly  flock  of 
guinea-fowls,  which  oftentimes  no  little  disturbed  the 
congregation  by  their  peculiar  cry  of  "Come  back! 
come  back  !  come  back  !  "  One  Sunday  the  climax 
of  annoyance  was  reached  when  the  whole  flock 
gathered  around  the  west  door  just  as  my  father  was 
beginning  to  read  the  first  lesson.  His  voice,  never 
at  any  time  very  strong,  was  completely  drowned. 
Whereupon  old  Russell  hastily  left  his  seat,  book  in 
hand,  and  clattering  as  usual  on  his  heels  down  the 
aisle  disappeared  through  the  door  on  vengeance  bent. 
The  discomfiture  of  the  offending  fowls  was  instantly 
apparent  by  the  change  in  their  cry  to  one  more  pierc- 
ing still  as  they  fled  away  in  terror.  Then  all  was  still, 


262  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

and  back  comes  old  Russell,  a  gleam  of  triumph  on  his 
face  and  somewhat  out  of  breath,  but  nevertheless  able 
without  much  difficulty  to  take  up  the  responses  in  the 
canticle  which  followed  the  lesson.  Scarcely,  however, 
had  the  congregation  resumed  their  seats  for  the  read- 
ing of  the  second  lesson  when  the  offending  flock 
again  gathered  round  the  west  door,  and  again,  as  if 
in  defiant  derision  of  Russell,  raised  their  mocking 
cry  of  "Come  back!  come  back!  come  back!"  And 
back  accordingly  he  went  clatter,  clatter  down  the 
aisle,  a  stern  resolution  flashing  from  his  eye,  and 
causing  the  little  boys  as  he  passed  to  quail  before  him. 
Now  it  so  happened  that  the  lesson  was  a  short  one, 
and,  moreover,  Russell  took  more  time,  making  a 
farther  excursion  into  the  churchyard  than  before,  in 
order  if  possible  to  be  rid  entirely  of  the  noisy  in- 
truders. Just  as  he  returned  to  the  church  door,  this 
time  completely  breathless,  the  first  verse  of  the 
canticle  which  followed  was  being  read,  but  Russell 
was  equal  to  the  occasion.  All  breathless  as  he  was, 
without  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  opened  his  book  at 
the  place  and  bellowed  forth  the  responses  as  he  pro- 
ceeded up  the  church  to  his  seat.  The  scene  may  be 
imagined,  but  scarcely  described :  Russell's  quaint 
little  figure,  the  broad-rimmed  spectacles  on  his  nose, 
the  ponderous  book  in  his  hands,  the  clatter  of  his 
heels,  the  choking  gasps  with  which  he  bellowed  out 
the  words  as  he  laboured  for  breath,  and  finally  the 
sudden  disappearance  of  the  congregation  beneath  the 
shelter  of  their  high  pews  with  a  view  to  giving  vent 
to  their  feelings  unobserved — all  this  requires  to  have 
been  witnessed  to  be  fully  appreciated. 

It  chanced  one  Sunday  that  a  parishioner  coming 
into   church   after  the  service  had  begun   omitted  to 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  OLD   CLERKS          263 

close  the  door,  causing  thereby  an  unseemly  draught. 
My  father  directed  Russell  to  shut  it.  Accordingly, 
book  in  hand  and  with  a  thumb  between  the  leaves 
to  keep  the  place,  he  sallied  forth.  But,  alas !  in 
shutting  the  door  the  thumb  fell  out  and  the  place  was 
lost,  and  after  floundering  about  awhile  to  find,  if 
possible,  the  proper  response,  he  at  length  made 
known  to  the  congregation  the  misfortune  which  had 
befallen  him  by  exclaiming  aloud,  "  I've  lost  my  place 
or  summut." 

A  very  amusing  incident  once  took  place  at  a  baptism. 
The  service  proceeded  with  due  decorum  and  regularity 
till  my  father  demanded  of  the  godfather  the  child's 
name.  The  answer  was  so  indistinctly  given  that  he 
had  to  repeat  the  question  more  than  once,  and  even 
then  the  name  remained  a  mystery.  All  he  could  make 
out  was  something  which  sounded  like  "  Harmun," 
the  godfather  indignantly  asserting  the  while  that  it 
was  a  "Scriptur"  name.  In  his  perplexity  my  father 
turned  to  Russell  with  the  query:  "Clerk,  do  you 
know  what  the  name  is?"  "No,  sir.  I'm  sure  I  don't 
know,  unless  it  be  he  at  the  end  of  the  prayer,"  mean- 
ing "Amen."  The  result  was  that  the  child  was 
otherwise  christened,  and  after  the  ceremony  was  over 
my  father,  placing  a  Bible  in  the  godfather's  hands, 
requested  him  to  find  the  "Scriptur"  name,  as  he 
called  it,  when,  having  turned  over  the  leaves  for  some 
time,  he  drew  his  attention  to  wicked  Haman.  The 
child's  escape,  therefore,  was  most  fortunate.  Old 
Russell  has  now  slept  with  his  fathers  for  many  years, 
and  the  few  stories  which  I  have  related  about  him 
do  not  by  any  means  exhaust  the  list  of  his  oddities. 
Many  of  the  parishioners  to  this  day,  no  doubt,  will 
call  to  mind  the  quaint  way  in  which,  if  he  thought  any 


264  THE    PARISH    CLERK 

one  was  misbehaving  himself  in  church,  he  would  rise 
slowly  from  his  seat  with  such  majesty  as  his  diminu- 
tive stature  could  command,  and  shading  his  spectacles 
with  his  hand,  gaze  sternly  in  the  offending  quarter  ; 
how  on  a  certain  Communion  Sunday  he  forgot  the 
wine  to  be  used  in  the  sacred  office,  and  when  my  father 
directed  his  attention  to  the  omission,  after  sundry  dives 
under  the  altar-cloth  he  at  last  produced  a  common 
rush  basket,  and  from  it  a  black  bottle ;  how  on  another 
Sunday,  being  desirous  to  free  the  church  from  smoke 
which  had  escaped  from  a  refractory  stove,  he  deliber- 
ately mounted  upon  the  altar  and  remained  standing 
there  while  he  opened  a  small  lattice  in  the  east  window. 
All  these  circumstances  will,  no  doubt,  be  recalled  by 
some  one  or  other  in  the  parish.  But,  gentle  reader, 
be  not  overharsh  in  passing  judgment  upon  him. 
I  verily  believe  that  he  had  no  more  desire  to  be 
irreverent  than  you  or  I  have.  The  fault  lay  rather  in 
the  religious  coldness  and  carelessness  of  those  days 
than  in  him.  He  was  liked  and  respected  by  every  one 
as  a  harmless,  inoffensive,  good-hearted  old  fellow,  and 
I  cannot  better  close  this  brief  account  of  some  of  his 
peculiarities  than  by  saying — as  I  do  with  all  my  heart 
— Peace  to  his  ashes  ! 

Mr.  Legge's  baptismal  story  reminds  me  of  a  friend 
who  was  christening  the  child  of  a  gipsy,  when  the 
name  given  was  "Neptin."  This  puzzled  him  sorely, 
but  suddenly  recollecting  that  he  had  baptized  another 
gipsy  child  "  Britannia,"  without  any  hesitation  he  at 
once  named  the  infant  "Neptune."  Mr.  Eagles  was 
once  puzzled  when  the  sponsor  gave  the  name  "  Acts." 
"'Acts!'  said  I.  '  What  do  you  mean?'  Thinks 
I  to  myself,  I  will  ax  the  clerk  to  spell  it.  He  did  : 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  CLERKS    265 

A-C-T-S.  So  Acts  was  the  babe,  and  will  be  while  in 
this  life,  and  will  be  doubly,  trebly  so  registered  if  ever 
he  marries  or  dies.  Afterwards,  in  the  vestry,  I  asked 
the  good  woman  what  made  her  choose  such  a  name. 
Her  answer  verbatim:  'Why,  sir,  we  be  religious 
people  ;  we've  got  vour  on  'em  already,  and  they  be 
caal'd  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John,  and  so  my 
husband  thought  we'd  compliment  the  apostles  a  bit.'" 

Mr.  Legge  adds  the  following  stories  : 

My  first  curacy  was  in  Norfolk  in  the  year  1858,  a 
period  when  the  old  style  of  parish  clerk  had  not  dis- 
appeared. On  one  occasion  I  was  asked  by  a  friend  in 
a  neighbouring  parish  to  take  a  funeral  service  for  him. 
On  arriving  at  the  church  I  was  received  by  a  very 
eccentric  clerk.  It  seemed  as  if  his  legs  were  hung 
upon  wires,  and  before  the  service  began  he  danced 
about  the  church  in  a  most  peculiar  and  laughable 
manner,  and  in  addition  to  this  he  had  a  hideous 
squint,  one  eye  looking  north  and  the  other  south. 
The  service  proceeded  with  due  decorum  until  we 
arrived  at  the  grave,  when  those  who  were  preparing 
to  lower  the  coffin  in  it  discovered  that  it  had  not  been 
dug  large  enough  to  receive  it.  This  of  course  created 
a  very  awkward  pause  while  it  was  made  larger,  and 
the  chief  mourner  utilised  it  by  gently  remonstrating 
with  the  clerk  for  his  carelessness.  In  reply  he  gave  a 
solemn  shake  of  his  head,  cast  one  eye  into  the  grave 
and  the  other  at  the  chief  mourner,  and  merely  re- 
marked, "Putty  (pretty)  nigh  though,"  meaning  that 
the  offence  after  all  was  not  so  very  great,  as  he 
had  almost  accomplished  his  task.  Obliged  to  keep 
my  countenance,  I  had,  as  may  be  imagined,  some 
difficulty. 

A  very  amusing  incident  once  took  place  when  I  had 


266  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

a  couple  before  me  to  be  married.  All  went  well  until 
I  asked  the  question,  "Who  giveth  this  woman  to  be 
married  to  this  man?"  when  an  individual  stepped 
forward,  and  snatching  the  ring  out  of  the  bride- 
groom's hand,  began  placing  it  on  a  finger  of  the 
bride.  As  all  was  confusion  I  signed  to  the  old  clerk 
to  put  matters  straight.  Attired  in  a  brown  coat  and 
leather  gaiters,  with  spectacles  on  his  nose,  and  a  large 
Prayer  Book  in  his  hands,  he  came  shuffling  forward 
from  the  background,  exclaiming  out  loud,  "Bless 
me,  bless  me  !  never  knew  such  a  thing  happen  afore 
in  all  my  life  ! "  The  service  was  completed  without 
any  further  interruption,  but  again  I  had  a  sore  diffi- 
culty in  keeping  my  countenance. 

Many  years  ago  ecclesiastical  matters  in  Norfolk  were 
in  a  very  slack  state — rectors  and  vicars  lived  away 
from  their  parishes,  subscribing  amongst  them  to  pay 
the  salary  of  a  curate  to  undertake  the  church  services. 
As  his  duties  were  consequently  manifold  some  parishes 
were  without  his  presence  on  Sunday  for  a  month  and 
sometimes  longer.  The  parish  clerk  would  stand  out- 
side the  church  and  watch  for  the  coming  parson, 
and  if  he  saw  him  in  the  distance  would  immediately 
begin  to  toll  the  bell ;  if  not,  the  parish  was  without  a 
service  on  that  day. 

It  happened  on  one  of  these  monthly  occasions  that 
on  the  arrival  of  the  parson  at  the  church  he  was  met 
by  the  clerk  at  the  door,  who,  pulling  his  forelock, 
addressed  him  as  follows:  "Sir,  do  yew  mind  a 
prachin  in  the  readin'  desk  to-day?"  "Yes,"  was  the 
reply;  "the  pulpit  is  the  proper  place."  "Well,  sir, 
you  see  we  fare  to  have  an  old  guse  a-sittin'  in  the 
pulpit.  She'll  be  arf  her  eggs  to-morrow  ;  'twould  be 
a  shame  to  take  her  arf  to-day." 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD   CLERKS          267 

The  pulpit  was  considered  as  convenient  a  place  as 
any  for  the  "  old  guse  "  to  hatch  her  young  in. 

Canon  Venables  contributes  the  following  : 

The  first  parish  clerk  I  can  in  the  least  degree 
remember  was  certainly  entitled  to  be  regarded  as  a 
" character,"  albeit  not  in  all  moral  respects  what 
would  be  called  a  moral  character.  Shrewd,  clever,  and 
better  informed  than  the  inhabitants  of  his  little  village 
of  some  eighty  folk,  he  was  not  ''looked  up  to,"  but 
was  regarded  with  suspicion,  and,  in  short,  was  not 
popular,  while  treated  with  a  certain  amount  of  defer- 
ence, being  a  man  of  some  knowledge  and  ability. 
The  clergyman  was  a  man  of  excellent  character, 
learned,  a  fluent  ex-tempore  preacher,  and  one  who 
liked  the  services  to  be  nicely  conducted.  He  came 
over  every  Sunday  and  ministered  two  services.  In 
those  days  the  only  organ  was  a  good  long  pitch-pipe 
constructed  principally  of  wood  and,  I  imagine,  about 
twelve  inches  in  length.  But  upon  the  parish  clerk 
devolved  the  onerous  (and  it  may  be  added  in  this 
case  sonorous)  duty  of  starting  the  hymn  and  the 
singing.  In  those  days  few  could  read,  and  the  method 
was  adopted  (and  I  know  successfully  adopted  a  few 
years  later)  of  announcing  two  lines  of  the  verse  to  be 
sung,  and  sometimes  the  whole  verse.  But  Mr.  W.  M. 
was  unpopular,  and  people  did  not  always  manifest  a 
willingness  to  sing  with  him. 

At  last  a  crisis  came.  The  hymn  and  psalm  were 
announced.  The  pitch-pipe  rightly  adjusted  gave  the 
proper  keynote,  and  the  clerk  essayed  to  sing.  But  from 
some  cause  matters  were  not  harmonious  and  none 
attempted  to  help  the  clerk. 

With  a  scowl  not  worthy  of  a  saint,  the  offended 
official  turned  round  upon  the  congregation  and  closed 


268  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

all  further  attempts  at  psalm-singing  by  stating  clearly 
and  distinctly,  "I  shan't  sing  if  nobody  don't  foller." 
This  man  was  deposed  ere  long,  and  deservedly,  if 
village  suspicions  were  truthful. 

After  which,  I  think,  he  usually  came  just  inside  the 
church  once  every  Sunday,  but  never  to  get  further 
than  to  take  a  seat  close  to  the  door.  He  died  at  a  great 
age.  Two  or  three  of  his  successors  were  worthy  men. 
One  of  them  would  carefully  recite  the  Psalms  for 
the  coming  Sunday  within  church  or  elsewhere  during 
the  week,  and  he  read  with  proper  feeling  and  good 
sense. 

Another  of  the  same  little  parish,  well  up  in  his 
Bible,  once  helped  the  very  excellent  clergyman  at  a 
baptism  in  a  critical  moment.  "Name  this  child." 
"Zulphur."  This  was  not  a  correct  name.  Another 
effort,  "Sulphur."  The  clergyman  was  in  difficulty. 
The  clerk  was  equal  to  the  occasion,  for  the  parson 
was  well  up  in  his  Bible  too. 

"  Leah's  handmaid,"  suggested  the  clerk.  "  Zilpah, 
I  baptize  thee,"  said  the  priest,  and  all  was  well. 

In  that  church  the  few  farmers  who  met  to  levy  a 
poor-rate  and  do  other  parochial  work  insisted  on  doing 
so  within  the  chancel  rails,  using  the  holy  table  as  the 
writing-desk,  and  the  assigned  reason  for  so  doing 
was  that,  being  apt  to  quarrel  and  dispute  over  parish 
matters,  there  would  be  no  danger  at  such  a  place  as 
this  of  using  profane  language.  All  in  the  diocese  of 
Oxford. 

It  was  in  the  twenties  that  I  must  have  seen  old  P.  W. 
(the  parish  clerk)  and  two  other  men  in  the  desk  singing 
to  "Hanover,"  with  a  certain  apparent  self-complacency 
in  nice  smock-frocks,  "My  soul,  praise  the  Lord,  speak 
good  of  His  Name,"  etc.  The  little  congregation 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  OLD   CLERKS          269 

listened  with  seeming  contentment,  and  it  is  worth 
recording  that  the  parson  always  preached  in  the  sur- 
plice. I  suppose  Pusey  was  a  boy  at  that  time,  but 
the  custom  in  this  church  was  not  a  novelty,  whether 
right  or  wrong. 

It  was  not  the  clerk's  fault  that  the  hour  of  service 
was  hastened  by  some  seventy  minutes  one  afternoon, 
so  that  one  or  two  invariably  late  worshippers  were 
astounded  to  be  driven  backwards  from  the  church  by 
the  congregation  returning  from  service.  But  so  it 
was.  The  really  well-meaning  kind-hearted  parson 
was  withal  a  keen  sportsman  and  a  worthy  gentleman, 
and  with  his  "long  dogs"  and  man  was  on  his  horse 
and  away  for  Illsley  Downs  race  course  to  come  off  next 
day,  and  his  dogs  (they  won)  must  not  be  fatigued. 
Old  P.  W.,  the  clerk,  reached  a  good  age,  an  in- 
offensive man. 

I  was  rather  interested  when  residing  in  my  parish 
in  grand  old  Yorkshire  to  observe  two  steady-looking 
and  rather  elderly  men,  each  aided  by  a  strong  walking- 
stick,  coming  to  church  with  praiseworthy  regularity 
and  reverence.  I  found,  on  making  their  acquaintance, 
that  they  were  brothers  who  had  recently  come  into 
the  parish,  natives  of  "the  Peak,"  or  of  the  locality 
near  the  Peak,  which  was  not  many  miles  distant  from 
my  parish. 

Since  I  heard  from  their  lips  the  story  which  I  am 
about  to  relate,  I  have  heard  it  told,  mutatis  mutandis, 
as  happening  in  sundry  other  parishes,  until  one  rather 
doubts  the  genuineness  of  the  record  at  all.  But  as 
they  recounted  it  it  ran  as  follows,  and  I  am  sure  they 
believed  what  they  told  me. 

Some  malicious  person  or  persons  unknown  entered 
the  church,  and  having  seized  the  rather  large  typed 


270  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

Prayer  Book  used  by  the  clerk,  who  was  somewhat 
advanced  in  years,  they  observed  that  the  words  "the 
righteous  shall  flourish  like  "  were  the  last  words  at  the 
bottom  of  the  page,  whereupon  they  altered  the  next 
words  on  the  top  of  the  following  page,  and  which  were 
1  'the  palm  tree,"  into  "a  green  bay  horse";  and,  the 
change  being  carefully  made,  the  result  on  the  Sunday 
following  was  that  the  well-meaning  clerk,  studiously 
uttering  each  word  of  his  Prayer  Book,  found  himself 
declaring  very  erroneous  doctrine.  "  Hulloa,"  cried 
he;  "I  must  hearken  back.  This'll  never  do."  Now 
I  cannot  call  to  mind  the  name  of  the  parish.  It 
was  not  Chapel-in-the-Frith.  Was  it  Mottram-in- 
Longdendale?  I  really  cannot  remember.  But  these 
two  old  men  asserted  that  thenceforward  it  became  a 

saying,  "  I  must  hearken  back,  like  the  clerk  of ." 

I  recollect  preaching  one  weekday  night  (and  people 
would  crowd  the  churches  on  weekday  evenings  fifty 
years  ago  far  more  readily  than  they  do  now)  at  some 
wild  place  in  Lancashire  or  Yorkshire,  I  think  Lanca- 
shire. I  was  taken  to  see  and  stand  upon  a  stepping 
stone  outside  the  church,  and  close  against  the  south 
wall  of  the  sacred  edifice,  upon  which  almost  every 
Sunday  the  clerk,  as  the  people  were  leaving  church, 
ascended  and  in  a  loud  voice  announced  any  matters 
concerning  the  parish  which  it  appeared  desirable  to 
proclaim.  In  this  way  any  intended  sales  were  made 
known,  the  loss  of  sheep  or  cattle  on  the  moors  was 
announced,  and  almost  anything  appertaining  to  the 
secular  welfare  of  the  parishioners  was  made  public.  I 
do  not  state  this  to  criticise  it.  It  was  in  some  degree 
a  recognition  of  the  charity  which  ought  to  realise  the 
sympathy  in  each  other's  welfare  which  we  ought  all  to 
display.  It  was  in  those  primitive  times  and  localities 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  CLERKS    271 

a  specimen  of  the  simplicity  and  well-meant  interest  in 
the  welfare  of  the  neighbour  as  well  as  of  oneself, 
although  perhaps  the  secular  sometimes  did  much  to 
extinguish  the  spiritual. 

Few  people  now  realise  what  a  business  it  was  to 
light  up  a  church,  say,  eighty  years  ago.  But  the 
worthy  old  clerk,  in  a  wig  bestowed  on  him  by  the 
pious  and  aged  patron,  is  hastening  to  illuminate  his 
church  with  old-fashioned  candles,  in  which  he  is  aided 
not  a  little  by  his  faithful  wife,  who,  like  Abraham's 
wife,  regarded  her  husband  as  her  lord  and  responded 
to  the  name  of  Sarah.  The  good  old  man — and  he 
was  a  good  old  man — was  perhaps  a  little  bit  "flustered 
and  flurried,"  for  the  folk  were  gathering  within  the 
sacred  temple,  and  W.  L.  was  anxious  to  complete  his 
task  of  lighting  the  loft,  or  gallery.  "I  say,  Sally, 
hand  us  up  a  little  taste  of  candle,"  cried  her  lord,  and 
Sarah  obeyed,  and  the  illumination  was  soon  com- 
plete. 

But,  really,  few  men  "gave  out"  or  announced  a 
hymn  with  truer  and  more  touching  and  devout  feeling 
than  did  that  old  clerk.  I  am  one  of  those  who  do  not 
think  that  all  the  changes  in  the  ministration  of  Church 
services  are,  after  experience  had,  desirable.  I  think 
that  in  many  instances  the  lay  clerk  ought  to  have  been 
instructed  in  the  performance  of  his  duties,  to  the  profit 
of  all  concerned.  And  I  deem  that  this  proceeding 
would  have  been  a  far  wiser  proceeding  than  any  sub- 
stitution of  the  man  or  his  function.  There  is  ancient 
authority  for  a  clerk  or  clerks.  It  is  wise  to  secure  work 
to  be  attended  to  in  the  functions  of  divine  service  for 
as  many  laymen  as  possible,  consistent  with  principle 
and  propriety.  W.  L.  was  an  old  man  when  I  saw 
him,  but  I  can  hear  him  now  as  with  a  pathos  quite 


272  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

touching  and  teaching,  because  done  so  simply  and 
naturally,  he  announced,  singing  : 

"  Salvation,  what  a  glorious  theme, 

How  suited  to  our  need. 
The  grace  that  rescues  fallen  man 
Is  wonderful  indeed." 

And  though  he  pronounced  the  last  word  but  one  as 
if  spelt  "  woonderful,"  I  venture  to  say  that  the 
' 'giving  out"  of  that  verse  by  that  aged  clerk  with 
his  venerable  wig  and  with  a  voice  trembling  a  little  by 
age,  but  more  by  natural  emotion,  was  preferable  to 
many  modern  modes  of  announcing  a  hymn. 

It  was  common  to  say  "  Let  us  sing,  to  the  praise 
and  glory  of  God."  It  is  common  to  be  shocked,  now- 
adays, by  such  an  invitation.  Are  we  as  reverent  now 
as  then?  Do  we  sing  praises  with  understanding 
better?  I  think  it  is  not  so. 

I  knew  a  very  respectable  man,  W.  K.,  a  tailor  by 
trade,  a  well-conducted  man,  but  who  felt  the  import- 
ance of  his  office  to  an  extent  that  made  him  nervous, 
or  (what  is  as  bad)  made  him  fancy  he  was  nervous. 
The  church  was  capacious,  and  the  population  over  two 
thousand. 

A  large  three-decker,  though  the  pulpit  was  at  a 
right  angle  with  the  huge  prayer-desk  and  the  clerk's 
citadel  below,  well  stained  and  varnished,  formed  an  im- 
portant portion  of  the  furniture  of  the  church,  the  whole 
structure,  as  we  were  reminded  by  large  letters  above  the 
chancel  arch,  having  been  "Adorn'd  and  beautified  1814," 
the  names  of  the  churchwardens  being  also  recorded. 
This  clerk  was  observed  frequently,  during  the  service, 
to  stoop  down  within  his  little  "pew"  as  if  to  imbibe 
something.  He  was  inquired  of  as  to  his  strange  pro- 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD   CLERKS          273 

ceeding,  when  he  frankly  stated  that  he  felt  the  trials  of 
his  duties  to  be  so  great,  that  he  always  fortified  himself 
with  a  little  bottle  containing  some  gin  and  some  water, 
to  which  bottle  he  made  frequent  appeals  during  the 
often  rather  lengthy  services.  He  had  to  proclaim  the 
notices  of  vestry  meetings  of  all  kinds,  as  well  as  to  give 
out  the  hymns ;  but  what  astonishes  me  is  that  he 
baptized  many  infants  at  their  homes  instead  of  the 
most  excellent  vicar,  when  circumstances  made  it  diffi- 
cult for  the  really  good  vicar  to  attend. 

I  saw  him,  one  first  Sunday  in  Lent,  stand  up  on  the 
edge  of  his  square  box  or  pew,  and  conduct  a  rather 
long  consultation  with  the  vicar,  a  very  spiritually 
minded,  excellent  man,  upon  which  we  were  put  through 
the  whole  Commination  Service  which,  though  ap- 
pointed for  Ash  Wednesday,  was  wholly  neglected  until 
it  lengthened  out  the  Sunday  morning  of  the  first  in 
but  not  of  Lent,  and  having  nothing  to  do  with  the 
forty  days  of  Lent. 

The  well-conducted  man  lived  to  a  good  age,  and  after 
his  death  a  rather  costly  stained  glass  window  was 
erected  to  his  memory  under  the  active  influence  of  a 
new  vicar.  When  privately  engaged  in  church  he  wore 
his  usual  silk  hat,  though  not  approving  of  any  one  so 
behaving. 

I  recollect,  in  a  large  church  in  a  large  town,  the 
clerk,  arrayed  (properly,  I  think)  in  a  suitable  black 
gown,  giving  out  the  hymn,  in  a  tone  to  be  regretted, 
but  where  the  obvious  remedy  was  not  to  dethrone  the 
clerk,  but  rather  to  have  just  suggested  the  propriety  of 
reading  the  entire  verse,  as  well  as  of  avoiding  a  tone 
lugubrious  on  the  occasion. 

It  was  Easter  Day,  and  the  hymn  quite  appropriate, 
T 


274  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

but  not  so  rendered   as  the  clerk  heavily  and  drearily 
announced  : 

"  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed, 

And  are  the  tidings  true  ?  " 

as  if  there  might  exist  a  doubt  about  this  glorious  fact. 
Pity  that   he  did  not  enter  into   the   spirit   of  the 
verse  and  add  : 

"  Yes  !  we  beheld  the  Saviour  bleed, 
And  saw  Him  rising  too." 

Within  about  ten  miles  nearer  to  Windsor  Castle 
the  clerk  of  a  church  in  which  not  a  few  nobility  usually 
worshipped,  was  altogether  at  fault  in  his  "  H's,"  as 
he  exhorted  the  people  to  sing,  "  The  Heaster  Im  with 
the  Allelujer,  7zet  the  /zend  of  /zevery  line."  Other 
clerks  may  have  done  the  same.  He  did  it,  I  know 
well. 

Throughout  the  whole  of  my  very  imperfect  ministry 
I  have  sought  to  practise  catechising  in  church  every 
Sunday  afternoon,  and  very  strongly  desire  to  urge  the 
practice  of  it  in  every  church  every  Sunday. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  parts  of  the  glorious 
ministry  since  the  time  of  St.  Luke  that  can  engage 
the  attention  of  the  ordained  ministers  of  Christ's 
Church.  It  needs  to  be  done  well.  It  ought  not  to  be  a 
very  nice,  simple  sermonette.  This,  though  very  beauti- 
ful, is  not  catechising.  Perhaps,  if  at  once  followed  by 
questions  upon  the  sermonette,  it  might  thus  become 
very  useful.  But  a  catechesis  in  which  the  catechist 
simply  tells  a  simple  story  or  gives  an  amusing  anec- 
dote, or  when  questioning,  so  puts  his  inquiries  that 
"  yes  "  and  "  no  "  are  the  listless  replies  that  are  drawn 
forth  from  the  lads  and  girls,  is  not  interesting  or  profit- 
able. Whenever  I  have  the  opportunity  I  go  to  an 
afternoon  catechetical  service,  Some  failed  by  being 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD  CLERKS          275 

made  into  the  time  of  a  small  preachment;  some  because 
in  a  few  minutes  the  catechist  easily  asked  questions 
and  then  answered  them  himself.  Others  were  really 
magnificent,  securing  the  attention  and  drawing  forth 
answers  admirably.  Was  it  the  great  bishop  Samuel 
Wilberforce  who  said,  "  A  boy  may  preach,  but  it  takes 
a  man  to  catechise  "  ? 

I  cannot  boast  of  being  a  good  catechist ;  but  I 
know  that  catechising  costs  me  more  mental  exhaustion 
(alas  !  with  sad  depression  under  a  sense  of  trial  of 
temper  and  failure)  than  any  sermon.  But  I  will  say 
to  any  clergyman,  My  dear  brother,  catechise;  try, 
persevere,  keep  on.  It  will  not  be  in  vain.  But  secure 
an  answer.  If  need  be,  become  a  cross-examining 
advocate  for  Christ,  and  don't  give  up  until  you  have 
made  the  catechumens,  by  dint  of  a  variety  of  ways  of 
putting  the  question,  give  the  answer  you  desired. 
You  have  made  them  think  and  call  memory  into  play, 
and  made  them  feel  that  they  "  knew  it  all  the  time," 
if  only  they  had  reflected.  And  you  have  given  them 
a  "  power  of  good." 

But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  a  clerk?  Well,  I 
want  to  tell  what  made  me  try  to  be  a  good  catechist, 
and  what  makes  me,  over  eighty-three  years  of  age, 
still  wish  to  become  such,  though  the  incident  must 
have  happened  some  seventy  years  ago,  for  I  recollect 
that  on  the  very  Sunday  we  crossed  the  Greta  my  father 
whispered  to  me  as  we  were  on  the  bridge  that  it  was 
the  poet  Southey  who  was  close  to  us,  as  he  as  well  as 
our  little  family  and  a  goodly  congregation  were  return- 
ing from  Crosthwaite  Church  in  the  afternoon.  For 
"oncers"  were  unknown  in  those  times,  neither  by 
poets  and  historians  like  Southey,  nor  by  travellers 
such  as  we  were.  We  had  attended  morning  service. 


276  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

A  stranger  officiated.  His  name  was  Bush,  and  this  is 
important.  A  family  "riddle"  impressed  the  name 
upon  me.  "  Why  were  we  all  like  Moses  to-day?" 
"  We  had  heard  the  word  out  of  a  Bush,"  was  the  reply. 
But  at  the  afternoon  service  I  was  deeply  impressed. 
The  Rev.  M.  Bush  having  read  the  lessons,  came  out 
of  the  prayer-desk,  and  to  my  amazement  and  great 
interest  catechised  the  children  and  others. 

I  thought  to  myself  that  the  practice  was  excellent, 
and  felt  that  if  ever  I  became  a  clergyman  (of  which 
honour  there  was  very  small  probability),  I  would  obey 
the  Prayer  Book  and  catechise.  Since  then  I  have 
catechised  ten,  twenty,  fifty  young  people,  and  not 
infrequently  five  hundred  to  one  thousand,  and  rarely 
two  to  three  thousand  on  a  Sunday  afternoon,  often, 
however,  much  exhausted  (having  to  preach  in  the 
evening)  and  dreadfully  cast  down  at  my  own  failure 
in  not  catechising  better. 

Decades  rolled  on.  A  lovely  effigy  of  Southey 
occupied  his  place  in  Crosthwaite  Church,  and  I  found 
myself  again  amidst  the  enchanting  views  of  and  about 
Derwentwater.  The  morning  was  wet,  but  I  resolved 
to  go  as  soon  as  it  cleared  up  in  order  to  find  "  th'  ould 
clerk,"  and  inquire  of  him  touching  the  catechising  of 
perhaps  forty  years  ago.  I  was  told  that  he  had  re- 
signed, that  he  lived  still  at  no  very  great  distance.  I 
think  he  was  succeeded  by  his  son  as  clerk.  After 
some  trouble  I  found  my  aged  friend,  and  told  him 
that  very  many  years  ago  I  was  at  the  church  when 
Southey,  the  poet,  was  there,  and  I  wanted  to  know  if 
the  catechising  was  continued.  "There  never  has 
been  any  catechising  here,"  said  the  worthy  old  sac- 
ristan. "Forgive  me,  I  heard  it  myself."  "I  tell 
thee  there  never  wa^s  no  catechising  here.  I  lived 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  OLD  CLERKS          277 

here  all  these  years,  and  was  clerk  for  nearly  all  the 
time."  "I  cannot  help  that,"  I  said;  "I  am  sure  there 
was  catechising  in  your  church  on  a  Sunday  when  I,  a 
boy,  was  here."  The  old  Churchman  became  testy, 
and  my  pertinacity  made  him  irate,  as  he  thundered 
out  that  "  never  had  there  been  catechising  in  that 
church  in  all  his  day."  I  rose  to  leave  him,  telling 
him  that  I  was  very  disappointed,  but  that  I  was  con- 
fident that  I  did  not  invent  this  story,  and,  I  added, 
the  name  of  the  parson  was  Bush.  "  Bush,  Bush, 
Bush!  Well,  there  was  a  clergyman  of  that  name 
come  here  four  Sundays,  many  a  year  ago,  when  the 
vicar  was  from  home  ;  and  now  I  come  to  think  of  it, 
he  did  catechise  on  the  Sunday  afternoon.  But  he  is 
the  only  man  that  ever  did  so  here.  There's  been  no 
catechising  in  this  church,  except  then."  We  parted 
good  friends  after  what  I  felt  to  be  a  most  singular 
interview,  far  more  interesting,  I  fear,  to  me  than  to 
any  who  may  read  this  unadorned  tale,  and  especially 
the  many  folks  who  probably  but  for  this  I  should 
never  have  catechised. 

But  I  hope  the  old  clerk  of  Crosthwaite's  declaration 
will  not  long  be  true  of  any  church  of  the  Anglican 
Communion,  "There's  been  no  catechising  here." 
My  success  as  a  preacher,  or  catechist,  or  parish  priest 
has  not  been  great,  but  this  does  not  greatly  surprise 
me,  while  sorrowing  that  so  it  has  been.  But  I  think  it 
likely  that  the  incident  at  Crosthwaite  Church  was  a 
chief  cause  of  my  trying  to  be  a  catechist,  and  I  con- 
clude by  saying  to  any  one  in  holy  orders,  or  pre- 
paring to  receive  them,  Make  catechising  an  important 
effort  in  your  ministry. 

It  was  a  small  parish.  The  vicar  was  a  learned  man, 
and  an  authority  as  an  antiquary,  and  a  man  of  high 


278  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

character.  On  a  certain  Sunday  morning  I  was  detailed 
to  perform  all  the  " duties"  of  Morning  Prayer.  Doubt- 
less I  was  too  energetic  in  my  efforts  at  preaching,  for 
my  "action"  proved,  almost  to  an  alarming  extent,  that 
the  huge  pulpit  cushion  had  not  been  "dusted"  for  a 
lengthy  period.  But  it  was  at  the  very  commencement 
of  divine  service  that  the  clerk  demonstrated  his  origin- 
ality in  the  proper  discharge  of  his  duties.  "  I  stands 
up  in  yonder  corner  to  ring  the  bells,  and  as  soon  as 
you  be  ready  you  gives  me  a  kind  of  nod  like,  and 
then  I  leaves  off  ringing  and  comes  to  my  place  as 
clerk."  Nothing  could  work  better,  and  the  clerk  of 

B d  and  I  parted  at  the  close  of  divine  service  on 

very  amicable  terms. 

Mr.  F.  S.  Gill,  aged  86,  has  many  recollections  of 
old  clerks  and  their  ways.  In  a  parish  in  Nottingham- 
shire there  was  an  old  clerk  who  was  nearly  blind. 
There  were  two  services  on  Sunday  in  summer,  and 
only  morning  service  in  winter.  The  clerk  knew 
the  morning  Psalms  quite  well  by  heart,  but  not  so 
the  evening  Psalms.  On  one  occasion  when  his 
verse  should  have  been  read,  he  was  unable  to 
recollect  it.  After  a  pause  the  clergyman  began  to 
read  it,  when  the  clerk,  who  occupied  the  box  below 
that  of  the  vicar,  looked  up,  saying,  "  Nay,  nay,  master, 
I've  got  it  now." 

Another  time,  when  an  absent-minded  curate  omitted 
the  ante-Communion  service  and  appeared  in  his  black 
gown  in  the  pulpit,  the  clerk  was  indignant,  and  went 
up  to  remonstrate.  Knocking  at  the  pulpit  door  and 
no  notice  being  taken  of  him,  he  proceeded  to  pull  the 
black  gown,  and  made  the  curate  come  down,  change 
his  robes,  and  complete  the  service  in  the  orthodox 
fashion. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  CLERKS          279 

In  another  Notts  church,  during  service,  there  was 
an  encounter  between  two  clerks.  The  regular  clerk 
having  been  taken  ill  was  unequal  to  his  duties 
for  some  weeks,  and  appointed  a  man  to  carry  them 
out  for  him.  On  the  restoration  to  health  of  the  real 
clerk  he  came  into  church  to  resume  his  duties,  but 
found  the  man  he  had  appointed  occupying  the  box — 
the  so-called  desk.  Whereupon  they  had  a  scuffle  in 
the  aisle. 

The  Rev.  William  Selwyn  recollects  the  following 
incidents  in  the  parish  of  F ,  near  Cambridge  : 

Here  up  to  the  end  of  the  sixties  and  well  into  the 
seventies  a  most  quaint  service  was  in  fashion.  The 
morning  service  began  with  a  metrical  Psalm — Tate 
and  Brady — led  by  the  clerk  (of  these  more  hereafter). 
This  being  ended,  the  vicar  commenced  the  service 
always  with  the  sentence  UO  Lord,  correct  me" — never 
any  other.  Then  all  things  went  on  in  the  regular 
course  till  the  end  of  the  Litany,  when  the  clerk  would 
be  heard  stamping  down  the  church  and  ascending  the 
gallery  in  order  to  be  ready  for  the  second  metrical 
Psalm.  That  ended,  the  vicar  would  commence  with 
the  ante-Communion  service  from  the  reading-desk. 
This  went  on  in  due  course  till  the  end  of  the  Nicene 
Creed,  when  without  sermon,  prayers,  or  blessing,  the 
morning  service  came  to  an  abrupt  termination.  The 
afternoon  service  was  identical,  save  that  it  ended  with 
a  sermon  and  the  blessing. 

But  the  chief  peculiarity  was  the  clerk  and  the  sing- 
ing. The  metrical  Psalm  chosen  was  invariably  one 
for  the  day  of  the  month  whatever  it  might  be.  The 
clerk  would  give  it  out,  "  Let's  sing  to  the  praise  and 
glory  of  God,"  and  then  would  read  the  first  two  lines. 


28o  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

The  usual  village  band — fiddle,  trombone,  etc.  etc. — 
would  accompany  him,  which  thing  done,  the  next  two 
lines  would  follow,  and  so  on.  Usually  the  number  of 
verses  was  four,  but  sometimes  the  clerk  would  go 
on  to  six,  or  even  seven.  Once,  I  remember,  this 
led  to  a  somewhat  ludicrous  result.  It  was  the 
seventh  day  of  the  month,  consequently  the  thirty-fifth 
was  the  metrical  Psalm  to  be  sung.  I  think  my  late 
revered  relative,  Canon  Selwyn,  learnt  then  with 
astonishment,  as  I  did  myself,  of  the  existence  of  the 
following  lines  within  the  folds  of  the  Prayer  Book : 

"  And  when  through  dark  and  slippery  ways 

They  strive  His  rage  to  shun, 
His  vengeful  ministers  of  wrath 
Shall  goad  them  as  they  run." 

It  is  hard  to  think  that  such  a  service  could  have 
been  possible  within  seven  miles  of  a  University  town, 
and  I  need  hardly  say  it  was  very  trying  to  the  younger 
ones. 

In  the  afternoon  the  band  migrated  to  the  dissenting 
chapel.  On  one  occasion  the  band  failed  to  appear, 
and  the  clerk  was  left  alone.  However,  he  made  the 
best  of  it,  with  scant  support  from  the  congregation, 
so  turning  to  them  at  the  end,  said  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  Thank  you  for  your  help  ! " 

THE   PARISH   OF   BROMFIELD,    SALOP. 

From  these  ludicrous  scenes  it  is  refreshing  to  turn 
to  a  service  which,  though  primitive,  was  conducted 
with  the  utmost  reverence  and  decency.  When  I  was 
instituted  in  1866  all  the  singing  was  conducted,  and 
most  reverently  conducted,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
clerk.  He  was  a  handsome  man,  with  a  flowing  beard, 
magnificent  bass  voice,  and  a  wooden  leg.  With  two 


THK    PARISH   CUCRK   OK   Ql'KDdKl.KV 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  CLERKS    281 

or  three  sons,  daughters,  and  others  in  the  village  he 
carried  on  the  choir,  and  though  there  were  only  hymns, 
nothing  could  be  better.  Of  its  kind  I  have  seldom 
heard  anything  better.  They  had  to  yield  to  the 
inexorable  march  of  time,  but  I  parted  from  them  with 
regret.  Though  we  now  have  a  surpliced  choir  of 
men  and  boys,  with  a  trained  organist  and  choir- 
master, I  always  look  back  to  my  good  old  friend  with 
his  daughters  and  their  companions,  who  were  the 
leaders  of  the  singing  in  the  early  days  of  my 
incumbency. 

The  Rev.  Canon  Hemmans  tell  his  reminiscences  of 
Thomas  Evison,  parish  clerk  of  Wragby,  Lincolnshire, 
who  died  in  1865,  aged  eighty-two  years.  He  speaks 
of  him  as  "a  dear  old  friend,  for  whom  I  had  a  pro- 
found regard,  and  to  whom  I  was  grateful  for  much 
help  during  my  noviciate  at  my  first  and  only  curacy." 

Thomas  Evison  was  a  shoemaker,  and  in  his  early 
years  a  great  pot-house  orator.  Settled  on  his  well- 
known  corner  seat  in  the  "  Red  Lion,"  he  would  be  seen 
each  evening  smoking  his  pipe  and  laying  down  the 
law  in  the  character  of  the  village  oracle.  He  must 
have  had  some  determination  and  force  of  character,  as 
one  evening  he  laid  down  his  pipe  on  the  hob  and  said, 
'Til  smoke  no  more."  He  also  retired  from  his  corner 
seat  at  the  inn,  but  he  was  true  to  his  political  opinions, 
and  remained  an  ardent  Radical  to  the  last.  This 
action  showed  some  courage,  as  almost  all  the  parish 
belonged  to  the  squire,  who  was  a  strong  Tory  of  the 
old  school.  Canon  Hemmans  was  curate  of  Wragby 
with  the  Rev.  G.  B.  Yard  from  1851  to  1860,  succeeding 
the  present  Dean  of  St.  Paul's.  Mr.  Yard  was  a  High 
Churchman,  a  personal  friend  of  Manning,  the  Wilber- 


282  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

forces,  R.  Sibthorpe,  and  Keble,  and  when  expound- 
ing then  unaccustomed  and  forgotten  truths,  he  found 
the  clerk  a  most  intelligent  and  attentive  hearer. 
Evison  used  to  attend  the  daily  services,  except  the 
Wednesday  and  Friday  Litany,  which  service  was  too 
short  for  him.  During  the  vicar's  absence  Canon 
Hemmans,  who  was  then  a  deacon,  found  the  clerk  a 
most  reliable  adviser  and  instructor  in  Lincolnshire 
customs  and  words  and  ways  of  thought.  When  he 
was  baptizing  a  child  privately,  the  name  Thirza  was 
given  to  the  child,  which  he  did  not  recognise  as  a 
Bible  name.  He  consulted  Evison,  who  said,  "Oh, 
yes,  it  is  so  ;  it's  the  name  of  Abel's  wife."  On  the 
next  day  Evison  bought  a  book,  Gesner's  Death  of 
Abel,  a  translation  of  some  Swedish  or  German  work, 
in  which  the  tragedy  of  the  early  chapters  of  Genesis 
is  woven  into  a  story  with  pious  reflections.  This  is 
not  an  uncommon  book,  and  the  clerk  said  these  people 
believed  it  was  as  true  as  the  Bible,  because  it  claimed 
to  be  about  Bible  characters. 

Evison  was  a  diligent  reader  of  newspapers,  which 
were  much  fewer  in  his  day,  and  studied  diligently 
the  sermons  reported  in  the  local  Press.  He  was  much 
puzzled  by  the  reference  to  "  the  leg  end  "  of  the  story 
of  the  raising  of  Lazarus  in  a  sermon  preached  by  the 
Bishop  of  London,  afterwards  Archbishop  Tait.  A 
reference  to  Bailey's  Dictionary  and  the  finding  of  the 
word  legend  made  matters  clear.  Of  course  he  mis- 
called words.  During  the  Russian  War  he  told  Mr. 
Hemmans  that  we  were  not  fighting  for  "  territororial 
possessions,"  and  he  always  read  "  Moabites  and 
Hungarians  "  in  his  rendering  of  the  sixth  verse  of  the 
8srd  Psalm. 

After  the  resignation  of  Mr.  Yard  in   1859  a   Low 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  OLD   CLERKS          283 

Churchman  was  appointed,  who  restored  the  use  of  the 
black  gown.  Mr.  Hemmans  had  to  preach  in  the  even- 
ing of  the  first  Sunday,  and  was  undecided  as  to 
whether  he  ought  to  continue  to  use  the  surplice.  He 
consulted  Evison,  whose  brave  advice  was,  "Stick  to 
your  colours." 

The  clerk  stuck  stoutly  to  his  Radical  principles, 
and  one  day  went  to  Lincoln  to  take  part  in  a  contested 
election.  On  the  following  Sunday  the  vicar  spoke  of 
"  the  filthy  stream  of  politics."  The  old  man  was 
rather  moved  by  this,  and  said  afterwards,  "Well,  I 
am  not  too  old  to  learn."  Though  staunch  to  his  own 
principles,  he  was  evidently  considerate  towards  the 
opinions  of  others.  He  used  to  keep  a  pony  and  gig, 
and  his  foreman,  one  Solomon  Bingham,  was  a  local 
preacher.  When  there  came  a  rough  Sunday  morning 
the  kind  old  clerk  would  say  :  "Well,  Solomon,  where 
are  you  going  to  seminate  your  schism  to-day?  You 
may  have  my  trap."  Canon  Hemmans  retains  a  very 
affectionate  regard  for  the  memory  of  the  old  clerk. 

Mrs.  Ellen  M.  Burrows  sends  me  a  charming  de- 
scription of  an  old-fashioned  service,  and  some  clerkly 
manners  which  are  worth  recording. 

From  twenty-five  to  thirty  years  ago  the  small  Bed- 
fordshire village  of  Tingrith  had  quaint  customs  and 
ceremonies  which  to-day  exist  only  in  the  memory  of 
the  few. 

The  lady  of  the  manor  was  perhaps  best  described 
by  a  neighbouring  squire  as  a  "potentate  in  petti- 
coats." 

Being  sole  owner  of  the  village,  she  found  employ- 
ment for  all  the  men,  enforced  cleanliness  on  all  the 
women,  greatly  encouraged  the  industry  of  lace-making 


284  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

and  hat-sewing,  paid  for  the  schooling  of  the  children, 
and  looked  after  the  morals  of  everybody  generally. 

Legend  has  it  that  one  ancient  schoolmaster  whom 
this  good  lady  appointed  was  not  overgood  at  spelling, 
and  would  allow  a  pupil  to  laboriously  spell  out  a  word 
and  wait  for  him  to  explain.  If  the  master  could  not 
do  this  he  would  pretend  to  be  preoccupied,  and  advise 
the  pupil  to  "  say  '  wheelbarrow '  and  go  on." 

On  a  Sunday  each  and  every  cottager  was  expected  at 
church.  The  women  sat  on  one  side  of  the  centre  aisle 
and  the  men  on  the  other,  the  former  attired  in  clean 
cotton  gowns  and  the  latter  in  their  Sunday  smocks. 

The  three  bells  were  clanged  inharmoniously  until 
a  boy  who  was  stationed  at  a  point  of  vantage  told  the 
ringer  "  she's  a-comin'."  Then  one  bell  only  was  rung 
to  announce  the  near  arrival  of  the  lady  of  the  manor. 

The  rector  would  take  his  place  at  the  desk,  and  the 
occupants  of  the  centre  aisle  would  rise  respectfully 
to  their  feet  in  anticipation. 

A  white-haired  butler  and  a  younger  footman — with 
many  brass  buttons  on  their  coat-tails — would  fling 
wide  the  double  doors  and  stand  one  on  either  side  until 
the  old  lady  swept  in  ;  then  one  door  was  closed  and 
the  other  only  left  open  for  less-important  worshippers 
to  enter.  As  she  passed  between  the  men  and  women 
to  the  big  pew  joining  the  chancel  screen,  they  all 
touched  their  forelocks  or  dropped  curtsies  before  re- 
suming their  seats.  Before  this  aristocratic  person- 
age began  her  devotions  she  would  face  round  and 
with  the  aid  of  a  large  monocle,  which  hung  round  her 
neck  on  a  broad  black  ribbon,  would  make  a  silent 
call  over,  and  for  the  tardy,  or  non-arrivals,  there  was 
a  lecture  in  store.  The  servants  of  her  household  had 
the  whole  of  one  side  aisle  allotted  to  their  use.  The 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  CLERKS    285 

farmers  had  the  other.  There  were  two  "strangers' 
pews,"  two  "  christening  pews,"  and  the  rest  were  for 
the  children.  When  a  hymn  was  given  out  the  school- 
master would  vigorously  apply  a  tuning-fork  to  his 
knee,  and  having  thus  got  the  key  would  start  the 
tune,  which  was  taken  up  lustily  by  the  children  round 
him.  This  was  all  the  singing  they  had  in  the  service. 
The  clerk  said  all  the  amens  except  when  he  was 
asleep.  The  rector  was  never  known  to  preach  more 
than  ten  minutes  at  a  time,  and  this  was  always  so 
simple  an  exposition  of  the  Scripture  that  the  most 
illiterate  could  understand. 

But  no  pen  can  pay  tribute  enough  to  the  sweet 
earnestness  of  those  little  sermons,  or,  having  heard 
them,  ever  go  away  unimpressed. 

At  the  end  of  the  service  no  one  of  the  congregation 
moved  until  the  lady  of  the  manor  sailed  out  of  the 
great  square  pew.  Then  the  men  and  women  rose  as 
before  and  bowed  and  bobbed  as  she  passed  down  the 
aisle.  The  two  menservants  again  flung  wide  the 
double  doors  and  stood  stiffly  on  either  side  as  she 
passed  out ;  then  sedately  walked  home  behind  her  at 
a  respectful  distance. 

On  each  Good  Friday  the  male  community  of  the 
villagers  were  given  a  holiday  from  their  work,  and  a 
shilling  was  the  reward  for  every  man  who  made  his 
appearance  at  the  eleven  o'clock  service ;  needless  to 
say,  it  was  well  attended. 

Another  church  (Newport  Pagnell,  Bucks)  in  an 
adjoining  county — probably  some  years  previous  to 
this  date — was  lighted  by  tallow  candles  stuck  in  tin 
sconces  on  the  walls,  and  twice  during  the  service  the 
clerk  went  round  with  a  pair  of  long-handled  snuffers 


286  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

to  "smitch,"  as  he  called  it,  the  wicks  of  these  evil- 
smelling  lights. 

For  his  own  better  accommodation  he  had  a  candle 
all  to  himself  stuck  in  a  bottle,  which  he  lighted  when 
about  to  sing  a  hymn,  and  with  candle  in  one  hand  and 
book  in  the  other,  and  both  held  at  arm's  length,  he 
would  bellow  most  lustily  and  with  reason,  for  he  was 
supposed  to  lead  the  singing.  This  finished  he  would 
blow  out  his  candle  with  most  audible  vigour,  and 
every  one  in  his  neighbourhood  would  have  their 
handkerchiefs  ready  to  drop  their  noses  into. 

This  same  clerk  also  took  up  his  stand  by  the 
chancel  steps  with  a  black  rod  in  his  hand,  and  with 
tremendous  importance  marched  in  front  of  the  rector 
down  the  aisle  to  the  vestry  under  the  belfry,  and 
waited  outside  while  the  clergyman  changed  his  sur- 
plice for  a  black  cassock,  then  escorted  him  again  to 
the  pulpit  stairs. 

The  Rev.  E.  H.  L.  Reeve,  rector  of  Stondon  Massey, 
Essex,  contributes  the  following  excellent  stories  of  old- 
time  services. 

The  Rev.  Thomas  Wallace  was  rector  of  Listen,  in 
Essex,  from  1783,  the  date  of  his  father's  death,  on- 
ward. The  following  story  is  well  authenticated  in 
the  annals  of  the  family,  and  must  belong  to  the  latter 
part  of  the  eighteenth  century  or  the  commencement  of 
the  nineteenth  century. 

It  was,  of  course,  a  well-established  custom  in  those 
old  times  for  the  church  clerk  to  give  out  the  number 
of  the  hymn  to  be  sung,  which  he  did  with  much 
unction  and  long  preamble.  The  moments  thus  em- 
ployed would  be  turned  to  account  in  the  afternoon  by 
the  officiating  clergyman,  who  would  take  the  oppor- 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF   OLD   CLERKS          287 

tunity  of  retiring  to  the  vestry  to  exchange  his  surplice 
for  his  academic  gown  wherein  to  preach. 

On  one  occasion  Mr.  Wallace  left  his  sermon, 
through  inadvertence,  at  home  ;  and,  finding  himself 
in  the  vestry,  considered,  perhaps,  that  the  chance  of 
escape  was  too  good  to  be  lost.  At  any  rate,  he  let 
himself  out  into  the  churchyard,  and  returned  no  more! 
He  may  possibly  have  been  unable  to  find  a  discourse, 
but  these  are  details  with  which  we  are  not  concerned. 
The  clerk  and  congregation  with  becoming  loyalty 
lengthened  out  the  already  dreary  hymn  by  sundry 
additions  and  doxologies  to  give  their  pastor  time  to 
don  his  robes,  and  it  was  long  ere  they  perceived  the 
true  cause  of  his  delay.  They  were  somewhat  nettled, 
as  one  may  suppose,  at  being  thus  befooled,  and  here 
lies  the  gist  of  our  story.  Next  Sunday  the  clerk  did 
not  give  out  the  second  hymn  at  the  usual  time,  but 
waited  in  solemn  silence  till  Mr.  Wallace  had  returned 
in  his  black  gown  from  the  vestry  and  ascended  the 
pulpit  stairs.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  he  closed  the 
pulpit  door  with  a  slam  ;  and,  keeping  his  back  against 
if,  called  out  significantly,  and  with  a  tone  of  exultation 
in  his  voice,  "We've  got  him,  my  boys;  now  let  us 
sing  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  God,"  etc. 

William  Wren  held  the  office  of  church  clerk  at 
Stondon  Massey  in  Essex  for  thirty-six  years,  from 
1853  to  1889.  He  was  a  rough,  uneducated  man,  but 
with  a  certain  amount  of  native  talent  which  raised  him 
above  the  level  of  the  majority  of  his  class.  I  can  see 
him  now  in  his  place  Sunday  after  Sunday,  rigged  out 
in  a  suit  of  my  father's  cast-off  clerical  garments — a 
kind  of  "  set-off"  to  him  at  the  lower  end  of  the  church. 
In  his  earlier  days  Wren  had  played  a  flute  in  the 
village  instrumental  choir,  and  to  the  last  he  might  be 


288  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

heard  whiling  away  spare  moments  on  a  Sunday  in  the 
church  (for  he  brought  his  dinner  early  in  the  morning 
and  bivouacked  there  all  day  !)  recalling  to  himself  the 
departed  glories  of  ancient  time.  He  turned  the  handle 
of  the  barrel  organ  in  the  west  gallery  from  the  time  of 
its  purchase  in  1850  to  that  of  its  disappearance  in 
1873,  but  I  do  not  think  that  he  ever  appreciated  this 
rude  substitution  of  mechanical  art  for  cornet,  dulcimer, 
and  pipe. 

He  led  the  hymns  and  read  the  Psalms,  and  repeated 
the  responses  with  much  fervour  ;  perpetuating  (long 
after  it  had  ceased  to  be  correct)  the  idea  that  he  alone 
could  be  relied  upon.  Should  the  preacher  inadver- 
tently close  his  discourse  with  the  sacred  name  either  as 
part  of  a  text  or  otherwise,  a  fervent  "  Amun  "  was 
certain  to  resound  through  the  building,  either  because 
long  custom  had  led  him  to  regard  the  appendage  as 
indispensable  to  it,  or  because  like  an  old  soldier 
suddenly  roused  to  "attention,"  he  awoke  from  a 
stolen  slumber  to  jerk  himself  into  the  mental  attitude 
most  familiar  to  him.  This  last  supposition,  however, 
is  a  libel  upon  his  fair  character.  I  cannot  believe  that 
Wren  ever  slept  on  duty.  He  kept  near  to  him  a  long 
hazel  stick,  wherewith  to  overawe  any  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  congregation  who  were  inclined  either 
to  speak  or  titter.  On  Wednesdays  and  Fridays  in 
Lent,  when  the  school  attended  morning  service,  and, 
in  the  absence  of  older  people,  occupied  the  principal 
seats  instead  of  their  Sunday  places  in  the  gallery, 
Wren's  rod  was  frequently  called  into  active  play,  and 
I  have  heard  the  stick  resound  on  the  luckless  head  of 
many  an  offending  culprit. 

Let  me  give  one  closing  story  of  him  on  one  of 
those  weekday  mornings. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  CLERKS    289 

It  was  St.  John  the  Evangelist's  Day,  and  a  few  of 
us  met  at  church  for  matins.  It  was  thought  well  to 
introduce  a  hymn  for  the  festival  (our  hymn  book  in 
those  days  was  Mercer's  Church  Psalter  and  Hymn 
Book)  and  Wren  was  to  take  charge,  as  usual,  of  the 
barrel-organ.  My  father  gave  out  hymn  292  at  the 
appointed  place,  but  only  silence  followed.  Again 
"292,"  and  then  came  a  voice  from  the  west  gallery, 
"The  283rd!"  My  father  did  not  take  the  hint,  and 
again,  rather  unfortunately,  hazarded  "Hymn  292." 
This  was  too  much  for  our  organist,  who  called  in  still 
louder  tones,  "  'Tis  the  283rd  I  tell  you  !"  Fortunately, 
we  were  a  small  company,  but  matters  would  have 
been  the  same,  I  dare  say,  on  a  Sunday. 

In  the  vestry  subsequently  Wren  explained  to  my 
father,  "You  know  there  are  two  Johns ;  the  292nd 
hymn  belongs  to  John  the  Baptist's  Day  ;  this  is  John 
the  Evangelist's." 

The  confusion  once  over  my  father  was  much  amused 
with  the  incident,  and  frequently  entertained  friends 
with  it  afterwards,  when  I  am  bound  to  say  it  did  not 
lose  its  richness  of  detail.  "  Don't  I  keep  a-telling  on 
you?"  was  the  fully  developed  question,  as  I  last 
remember  hearing  the  story  told.  The  above,  how- 
ever, I  can  vouch  for  as  strictly  correct,  being  one  of 
the  select  party  privileged  to  witness  the  occurrence. 

Mr.  Frederick  W.  Hackwood,  the  historian  of  Wed- 
nesbury,  has  kindly  sent  the  following  description  of 
the  famous  clerks  of  that  place  : 

The  office  of  parish  clerk  in  Wednesbury  has  been 

held   by  at  least  two   remarkable  characters.     "  Old 

George  Court,"  as  he  was  called — and  by  some  who 

are  still  alive— held  the  post  in  succession  to  his  grand- 

u 


290  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

father  for  a  great  number  of  years.  His  grandfather 
was  George  Watkins,  in  his  time  one  of  the  principal 
tradesmen  in  the  town.  His  hospitable  house  was  the 
place  of  entertainment  for  a  long  succession  of  curates- 
in-charge  and  other  officiating  ministers  for  all  the  long 
years  that  the  vicar  (Rev.  A.  Bunn  Haden)  was  a  non- 
resident pluralist.  But  the  position  created  by  this  state 
of  things  was  remarkable.  Watkins  and  the  small  coterie 
who  acted  with  him  became  the  absolute  and  dominant 
authority  in  all  parochial  matters.  One  curate  com- 
plained of  him  and  his  nominee  wardens  (in  1806)  that 
"these  men  had  been  so  long  in  office,  and  had 
become  so  cruel  and  oppressive,"  that  some  of  the 
parishioners  resolved  at  last  to  dismiss  them.  The 
little  oligarchy,  however,  was  too  strong  to  be  ousted  at 
any  vestry  that  ever  was  called.  As  to  the  elected 
officials,  the  same  curate  records  in  a  pamphlet  which 
he  published  in  his  indignation,  that  "on  Christmas 
Day,  during  divine  service,  the  churchwardens  entered 
the  workhouse  with  constables  and  bailiffs,  and  a  mul- 
titude of  men  equally  pious  with  themselves,  and  turned 
the  governor  and  his  wife  into  the  snow-covered 
streets."  Another  measure  of  iniquity  laid  to  their 
charge  was  their  "cruelty  to  Mr.  Foster,"  the  master 
of  the  charity  school  held  in  the  old  Market  Cross,  "a 
man  of  amiable  disposition,  and  a  teacher  of  consider- 
able merit."  These  aggressive  wardens  grazed  the 
churchyard  for  profit,  looked  coldly  upon  a  proposal  to 
put  up  Tables  of  Benefactions  in  the  church,  and  alto- 
gether acted  in  a  manner  so  high-handed  as  to  call 
forth  this  historic  protest.  Although  the  fabric  of  the 
church  was  in  so  ruinous  a  condition  that  the  rain 
streamed  through  the  roof  upon  the  head  of  our  clerical 
pamphleteer  as  he  was  preaching,  all  these  complaints 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  CLERKS    291 

were  to  no  purpose.  When  the  absentee  vicar  was 
appealed  to  he  declared  his  helplessness,  and  one 
sentence  in  his  reply  is  significant ;  it  was  thus  :  "  It 
is  as  much  as  my  life  is  worth  to  come  among  them  ! " 
Allowance  must  be  made  for  party  rancour.  It  is 
probable  that  Watkins  was  but  the  official  figure-head 
of  this  dominant  party,  and  he  is  said  to  have  been  a 
man  of  real  piety  ;  and  after  holding  the  office  of  parish 
clerk  for  sixty  years,  he  at  last  died  in  the  vestry  of  the 
church  he  loved  so  much. 

As  a  certified  clerk  George  Court  held  the  office  as 
long  as  his  grandfather  before  him.  He  was  a  man 
of  the  bluff  and  hearty  sort,  thoroughly  typical  of  old 
Wednesbury,  of  Dutch  build,  yet  commanding 
presence,  in  language  more  forcible  than  polite,  and 
not  restrained  in  the  use  of  his  strong  language 
even  by  the  presence  of  an  austere  and  iron-willed 
vicar.  The  tales  told  of  him  are  numerous  enough, 
but  are  scarcely  of  the  kind  that  look  well  in  cold  print. 
Although  fond  of  the  good  things  of  this  world  him- 
self, he  could  occasionally  be  very  severe  on  the  high 

feeding  and  deep  drinking  proclivities  of  "You 

singers  and  ringers  "  !  He  was  never  known  to  fail  in 
scolding  any  funeral  procession  that  had  kept  him 
waiting  at  the  church  gates  too  long,  and  that  in  lan- 
guage as  loud  as  it  was  vigorous.  He,  like  his  pre- 
decessor, was  the  autocrat  of  the  parish. 

The  last  of  the  long  line  of  parish  clerks  who 
occupied  the  bottom  desk  of  the  fine  old  Jacobean 
three-decker  was  Thomas  Parkes.  He  died  in  1884. 
The  peculiar  resonant  nasal  twang  with  which  he  sang 
out  the  "Amens"  gave  rise  to  a  sharp  newspaper 
correspondence  in  the  Wednesbury  Observer  of  1857. 
Another  controversy  provoked  by  him  was  at  the  open- 


292  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

ing  of  the  cemetery  in  1868,  when  as  vestry  clerk  he 
claimed  a  fee  of  gd.  on  every  interment.  The  resistance 
of  the  Nonconformists  led  to  an  amicable  compromise. 

Mr.  Wise,  of  Weekley,  the  author  of  several  works 
on  Kettering  and  the  neighbourhood,  tells  me  of  an 
extraordinary  incident  which  happened  in  a  Sussex 
parish  church  when  he  was  a  boy  about  seventy  years 
ago.  The  clerk  was  a  decayed  farmer  who  had  a  fine 
voice,  but  who  was  noted  for  his  intemperate  habits. 
He  went  up  as  usual  to  the  singers'  gallery  just  before 
the  sermon  and  gave  out  the  metrical  Psalm.  The 
Psalm  was  sung,  the  sermon  commenced,  when 
suddenly  from  the  gallery  rose  the  words  of  a  popular 
song,  given  by  a  splendid  tenor  voice  : 

"  Oh,  give  my  back  my  Arab  steed, 
My  Prince  defends  his  right, 
And  I  will  ..." 

"  Some  one,  please,  remove  that  drunken  man  from 
the  gallery,"  the  clergyman  quietly  said.  It  was 
afterwards  found  that  some  mischievous  persons  had 
promised  the  clerk  a  gallon  of  ale  if  he  would  sing 
a  song  during  the  sermon. 

Miss  Elton,  of  Bath,  tells  me  of  the  clerk  of  Bierton, 
near  Aylesbury,  of  which  her  father  had  sole  charge 
for  a  time  at  the  end  of  the  forties.  His  predecessor 
had  been  a  Mr.  Stephens.  The  place  had  been 
neglected,  and  church  matters  were  at  a  low  ebb. 
Mr.  Elton  instituted  a  service  on  Saints'  Days,  which 
was  quite  an  innovation  at  that  time,  and  the  first  of 
these  was  held  on  St.  Stephen's  Day.  The  old  clerk 
came  into  the  vestry  after  the  service  and  said,  "  I  be 
sorry,  sir,  to  hear  the  unkid  (=  awful)  tale  of  poor 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  OLD   CLERKS          293 

Mussar  (Mister)  Stephens.  He  be  come  to  a  sad  end 
surely."  He  had  evidently  confounded  the  first  martyr, 
St.  Stephen,  with  the  late  curate  of  the  parish,  having 
apparently  never  heard  of  the  former. 

A  new  vicar  had  been  appointed  to  a  parish  about 
eight  miles  from  Oxford,  who  had  been  for  many  years 
a  Fellow  of  his  college,  and  in  consequence  knew 
little  of  village  folk  or  parochial  matters.  Dr.  A.  was 
much  disturbed  to  find  that  so  few  of  the  villagers 
attended  church,  and  consulted  the  clerk  on  the  subject, 
who  suggested  that  it  might  encourage  the  people  to 
attend  if  Dr.  A.  was  to  offer  to  give  sixpence  a  Sunday 
to  all  who  came  to  church.  The  plan  was  tried  and 
found  to  succeed  ;  the  congregations  improved  rapidly, 
and  the  church  was  well  filled,  to  Dr.  A.'s  satisfaction. 
But  after  a  while  the  numbers  fell  off,  and  to  Dr.  A.'s 
chagrin  people  left  off  attending  church.  He  again 
called  the  clerk  into  his  counsels,  and  asked  what  could 
be  the  reason  of  the  falling  off  of  the  congregation, 
as  he  had  always  given  sixpence  every  Sunday,  as  he 
promised,  to  all  who  came  to  the  service.  "  Well,  sir," 
said  the  clerk,  "it  is  like  this:  they  tells  me  as  how 
they  finds  they  can't  do  it  for  the  money  " 

The  following  reminiscences  are  supplied  by  the  Rev. 
W.  Frederick  Green,  and  are  worthy  of  record  : 

I  well  remember  the  parish  clerk  of  Woburn,  in  Bed- 
fordshire, more  than  sixty  years  ago.  His  name  was 
Joe  Brewer — a  bald-headed,  short,  stumpy  man,  who 
wore  black  knee-breeches,  grey  stockings,  and  shoes. 
He  was  also  the  town  crier.  He  always  gave  out 
the  hymns  from  the  front  of  the  west  gallery.  "  Let 
us  sing  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  God,  hymn  — " 
Once  I  heard  him  call  out  instead,  "  O  yes  !  O  yes  !  O 


294  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

yes  !  This  is  to  give  notice,"  and  then,  recollecting  he 
was  in  church,  with  a  loud  "O  crikey!"  he  began 
"  Let  us  sing,"  etc. 

Collections  in  church  were  made  by  him  in  a  china 
soup  plate  from  each  pew.  Ours  was  a  large  square 
family  pew.  One  Sunday  my  brother  put  into  the  plate 
a  new  coin  (I  think  a  florin),  which  Brewer  had  never 
seen  before,  and  which  he  thought  was  a  token  or 
medal,  and  thinking  my  brother  was  playing  a  trick 
upon  him,  said  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Now,  Master  Charles, 
none  of  them  larks  here." 

I  have  also  seen  him  at  afternoon  service  (there  was 
no  evening  service  in  those  days),  when  it  unex- 
pectedly came  on  too  dark  for  the  clergyman  to  see  his 
MS.  in  the  pulpit,  go  to  the  altar — an  ordinary  table 
with  drawers — throw  up  the  cloth,  open  a  drawer,  take 
out  two  candles  and  a  box  of  matches,  go  up  the  pulpit 
stairs,  fix  them  in  the  candlesticks,  and  light  them. 

During  the  winter  months  part  of  his  duty  was  to 
tend  the  fire  during  service  in  the  Duke  of  Bedford's 
large  curtained,  carpeted  pew  in  the  chancel. 

When  I  was  a  boy  I  was  staying  in  Northampton- 
shire, and  went  one  Sunday  morning  into  a  village 
church  for  service  (I  think  it  was  Fotheringhay).  There 
was  a  three-decker,  and  the  clerk  from  his  desk  led  the 
singing  of  the  congregation,  which  he  faced.  There 
was  no  musical  instrument  of  any  kind.  The  hymn, 
which  of  course  was  from  Tate  and  Brady,  was  the 
metrical  version  of  Psalm  xlii.  The  clerk  gave  out 
the  Psalm,  then  read  the  first  line  to  the  congregation, 
then  sang  it  solo,  and  then  the  congregation  sang  it 
altogether ;  and  so  on  line  after  line  for  the  whole 
eleven  verses. 

More  attention  must  have  been  paid  in  those  days  to 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD   CLERKS          295 

the  requirement  of  the  ninety-first  Canon,  that  the  clerk 
should  be  known,  if  may  be,  "for  his  competent  skill 
in  singing." 

In  1873  I  was  curate-in-charge  of  an  out-of-the-way 
Norfolk  village.  On  my  first  Sunday  I  had  an  early 
celebration  at  8  a.m.  I  arrived  in  church  about  7.45, 
and  to  my  amazement  saw  five  old  men  sitting  round 
the  stove  in  the  nave  with  their  hats  on,  smoking  their 
pipes.  I  expostulated  with  them  quite  gently,  but  they 
left  the  church  before  service  and  never  came  again. 
I  discovered  afterwards  that  they  had  been  regular 
communicants,  and  that  my  predecessor  always  dis- 
tributed the  offertory  to  the  poor  present  immediately 
after  the  service.  When  these  men  in  the  course  of  my 
remonstrance  found  that  I  was  not  going  to  continue 
the  custom,  they  no  longer  cared  to  be  communicants. 

In  1870,  in  Norfolk,  I  went  round  with  the  rural  dean 
visiting  the  churches.  At  one  church  the  only  person 
to  receive  the  rural  dean  was  the  parish  clerk,  who  was 
ready  with  the  funeral  pall  to  put  over  the  rural  dean's 
horse  whilst  waiting  outside  the  church. 

It  was  this  same  church  which,  in  preparation  for  the 
rural  dean's  visit,  had  been  recently  and  completely 
whitewashed  throughout.  Not  only  the  walls  and 
pillars,  but  also  the  pews,  the  school  forms,  the  pulpit, 
and  also  the  altar  itself,  a  very  small  four-legged  deal 
table  without  any  covering.  I  suppose  this  was  done 
by  the  churchwardens  to  conceal  the  dilapidated  condi- 
tion of  everything  ;  but  they  had  omitted  to  remove 
the  grass  which  was  growing  in  the  crevices  of  the 
floor  paving. 

Mr.  Moxon  (deceased),  formerly  rector  of  Hethersett, 
in  Norfolk,  told  me  that  he  had  once  preached  for  a 
friend  in  a  Norfolk  village  church  with  the  woman 


296  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

clerk  holding  an  umbrella  over  his  head  in  the  pulpit 
throughout  the  sermon,  because  of  the  "dreep." 

Miss  E.  Lloyd,  of  Woodburn,  Crowborough,  writes: 

About  the  year  1833  a  gentleman  bought  an  estate 
in  North  Yorkshire,  seven  miles  from  any  town,  and 
built  a  house  there.  The  parish  was  small,  having  a 
population  of  about  a  hundred  souls,  the  church  old 
and  tumbledown,  reeking  with  damp  ;  the  rain  came 
through  the  roof;  the  seats  were  worm-eaten,  and 
centipedes,  with  other  like  vermin,  roamed  about  them 
near  the  wall.  The  vicar  was  non-resident,  and  an 
elderly  curate-in-charge  ministered  to  this  parish  and 
another  in  the  neighbourhood.  The  customs  of  the 
church  were  much  the  same  as  those  described  by 
Canon  Atkinson  in  his  Forty  Years  in  a  Moorland 
Parish  as  existing  on  his  arrival  at  Danby.  There  was 
no  vestry.  The  surplice  (washed  twice  a  year)  was  hung 
over  the  altar  rails,  within  which  the  curate  robed,  his 
hat  or  any  parcel  he  happened  to  have  in  his  hand 
being  put  down  for  the  time  on  the  Holy  Table.  The 
men  sat  for  the  most  part  together,  the  farmers  and 
young  men  in  the  singing-loft,  the  labourers  below, 
and  the  women  in  front.  The  wife  of  the  chief  yeoman 
farmer — an  excellent  and  superior  woman — still  kept  up 
the  habit  of  "making  a  reverence"  to  the  altar  before 
she  entered  her  pew.  The  surplice,  which  hung  in  the 
church  all  through  the  week,  was  apt  to  get  very  damp. 
On  one  occasion,  when  a  strange  clergyman  staying  at 
the  Hall  took  the  service,  he  declined  to  wear  it,  as  it 
was  so  wet. 

"He  wadn't  pit  it  on,"  said  the  old  clerk  Christopher 
(commonly  called  "Kitty")  Hill.  "I  reckon  he  was 
afeard  o'  t'  smittle  "  (infection). 

The  same  clergyman,  when  he  went  up  to  the  altar 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD   CLERKS          297 

for  the  Communion  Service,  knelt  down,  as  his  habit 
was,  at  the  north  end  for  private  prayer  whilst  the 
congregation  were  singing  a  metrical  Psalm  (Old  or 
New  Version).  On  looking  up  he  saw  that  Kitty  Hill 
had  followed  him  within  the  rails  and  was  kneeling 
at  the  opposite  end  of  the  Holy  Table  staring  at  him 
with  round  eyes  full  of  amazement  at  this  unusual  act 
of  devotion.  Both  the  curate  and  the  clerk  spoke  the 
broadest  Yorkshire.  Psalm  xxxii.  4  was  thus  rendered 
by  Kitty:  "  Ma-maasture  is  like  t'  doong  i'  summer." 
He  was  an  old  man  and  quite  bald,  and  used  to  sit 
in  his  desk  with  a  blue-spotted  pocket-handkerchief 
spread  over  his  head,  occasionally  drawing  down  a 
corner  of  it  for  use,  and  then  pulling  it  straight  again. 
If  the  squire  happened  to  come  late  to  church — a  thing 
which  did  not  often  happen — the  curate  would  pause  in 

his  reading  and  apologise  :  "Good  morning,  Mr.  . 

I  am  sorry,  sir,  that  I  began  the  service.  I  thought 
you  were  not  coming  this  morning."  One  sentence 
of  the  sermon  preached  on  the  death  of  King 
William  IV  long  remained  in  the  memory  of  some 
of  his  young  hearers:  "Behold  the  King  in  all  his 
pomp  and  glory,  soodenly  toombled  from  his  high 
elevation,  and  mingled  wi'  the  doost !  " 

In  1845  a  new  church  was  built  on  the  old  site, 
a  new  curate  came,  Kitty  Hill  died,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded in  his  office  by  his  widow,  who  did  all  that  she 
could  do  of  the  clerk's  work,  and  showed  remarkable 
taste  in  decorating  the  church  at  Christmas.  No  clerk 
was  needed  for  the  responses,  as  the  congregation 
joined  heartily  in  the  service,  and  there  was  a  much 
better  attendance  than  there  is  now.  She  died  in  the 
early  fifties. 

Amongst  other  varied  readings  of  the  Psalms  that 


298  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

of  an  old  parish  clerk  at  Hartlepool  may  be  given. 
He  had  been  a  sailor,  and  used  to  render  Psalm  civ.  26 
as  "There  go  the  ships,  and  there  is  that  lieutenant 
whom  Thou  hast  made  to  take  his  pastime  therein." 

The  late  Dr.  Gatty,  in  his  record  of  A  Life  at  One 
Living,  mentions  that  at  Ecclesfield,  as  in  many  other 
places,  the  office  of  parish  clerk  was  hereditary.  The 
last  holder  of  the  office,  who  used  to  sit  in  his  desk 
clad  in  a  black  bombazine  gown,  was  a  publican  by 
trade,  a  decent,  honest  man,  who  during  the  fifty-one 
years  he  was  clerk  was  only  twice  absent  from  service. 
He  died  in  1868,  and  the  offices  of  clerk  and  sexton 
were  then  united  and  held  by  one  person. 

The  register  books  of  Weybridge,  Surrey,  were  kept 
for  a  great  part  of  the  eighteenth  century  by  the  parish 
clerks,  the  son  succeeding  his  father  in  office  for  three 
or  four  generations. 

Now  probably  the  clerks  are  no  more  clerks  but 
vergers;  and  as  a  Yorkshireman  remarked,  "  Verging 
is  a  very  honourable  profession." 

The  portrait  of  John  Gray,  sometime  clerk  in  Eton 
College  Chapel,  taken  in  his  gown  as  he  stood  in  his 
desk,  has  been  engraved,  and  is  well  known  to  old 
Etonians. 

Few  people  possess  the  gift  of  humour  in  the  same 
degree  as  the  late  Bishop  Walsham  How,  and  his 
stories  of  the  race  of  parish  clerks  and  vergers  must 
not  be  omitted,  and  are  here  published  by  permission 
of  his  son,  Mr.  F.  D.  How,  editor  of  Lighter  Moments. 

When  I  was  a  deacon,  and  naturally  shy,  I  was 
visiting  my  aunts  at  Workington,  where  my  grand- 
father had  been  rector,  and  was  asked  to  preach  on 
Sunday  evening  in  St.  John's,  a  wretched  modern 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD   CLERKS          299 

church — a  plain  oblong  with  galleries,  and  a  pulpit 
like  a  very  tall  wineglass,  with  a  very  narrow  little 
straight  staircase  leading  up  to  it,  in  the  middle  of  the 
east  part  of  the  church.  When  the  hymn  before  the 
sermon  was  given  out  I  went  as  usual  to  the  vestry  to 
put  on  the  black  gown.  Not  knowing  that  the  clergy- 
man generally  stayed  there  till  the  end  of  the  hymn,  I 
emerged  as  soon  as  I  had  vested  myself  and  walked  to 
the  pulpit  and  ascended  the  stairs.  When  nearly  at 
the  summit,  to  my  horror  I  discovered  a  very  fat  beadle 
in  the  pulpit  lighting  the  candles.  We  could  not 
possibly  pass  on  the  stairs,  and  the  eyes  of  the  whole 
congregation  were  upon  me.  It  would  be  ignominious 
to  retreat.  So  after  a  few  minutes'  reflection  I  saw  my 
way  out  of  the  difficulty,  which  I  overcame  by  a  very 
simple  mechanical  contrivance.  I  entered  the  pulpit, 
which  exactly  fitted  the  beadle  and  myself,  and  then 
face  to  face  we  executed  a  rotary  movement  to  the 
extent  of  a  semicircle,  when  the  beadle  finding  himself 
next  the  door  of  the  pulpit  was  enabled  to  descend,  and 
I  remained  master  of  the  situation. 

At  Uffington,  near  Shrewsbury,  during  the  incum- 
bency of  the  Rev.  J.  Hopkins,  the  choir  and  organist, 
having  been  dissatisfied  with  some  arrangement,  deter- 
mined not  to  take  part  in  the  service.  So  when  the 
clerk,  according  to  the  usual  custom  of  those  days, 
gave  out  the  hymn,  there  was  a  dead  silence.  This 
lasted  a  little  while,  and  then  the  clerk,  unable  to  bear 
it,  rose  up  and  appealed  to  the  congregation,  saying 
most  imploringly,  "  Them  as  can  sing  do  ye  sing  :  it's 
misery  to  be  a  this'n"  (Shropshire  for  "  in  this  way  "). 

At  Wolstanton,  in  the  Potteries,  there  was  a  some- 
what fussy  verger  called  Oakes.  On  one  occasion, 


300  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

just  at  the  time  of  the  year  when  it  was  doubtful 
whether  lights  would  be  wanted  or  no,  and  when  they 
had  not  yet  been  lighted  for  evening  service,  a 
stranger,  who  was  a  very  smart  young  clergyman,  was 
reading  the  lessons  and  had  some  difficulty  in  seeing. 
He  had  on  a  pair  of  delicate  lavender  kid  gloves.  The 
verger,  perceiving  his  difficulty,  went  to  the  vestry,  got 
two  candles,  lighted  them,  and  walked  to  the  lectern, 
before  which  he  stood  solemnly  holding  the  candles 
(without  candlesticks)  in  his  hands.  This  was  suffi- 
ciently trying  to  the  congregation,  but  suddenly  some 
one  rattled  the  latch  of  the  west  door,  when  Oakes, 
feeling  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  go  and  see 
what  was  the  matter,  thrust  the  two  candles  into  the 
poor  young  clergyman's  delicately  gloved  hands,  and 
left  him  ! 

At  the  church  of  Stratfieldsaye,  where  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  was  a  regular  attendant,  a  stranger  was 
preaching,  and  the  verger  when  he  ended  came  up  the 
stairs,  opened  the  pulpit  door  a  little  way,  slammed  it 
to,  and  then  opened  it  wide  for  the  preacher  to  go  out. 
He  asked  in  the  vestry  why  he  had  shut  the  door  again 
while  opening  it,  and  the  verger  said,  "We  always  do 
that,  sir,  to  wake  the  duke." 

A  former  young  curate  of  Stoke  being  very  anxious 
to  do  things  rubrically,  insisted  on  the  ring  being  put 
on  the  "fourth  ringer"  at  a  wedding  he  took.  The 
woman  resisted  and  said,  "  I  would  sooner  die  than  be 
married  on  my  little  finger."  The  curate  said,  "  But 
the  rubric  says  so,"  whereupon  the  deus  ex  machind 
appeared  in  the  shape  of  the  parish  clerk,  who  stepped 
forward  and  said,  "  In  these  cases,  sir,  the  thoomb 
counts  as  a  digit." 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  OLD  CLERKS    301 

A  gentleman  going  to  see  a  ritualistic  church  in 
London  was  walking  into  the  chancel  when  an  official 
stepped  forward  and  said,  "  You  mustn't  go  in  there." 
"Why  not?"  said  the  gentleman.  "  I'm  put  here  to 
stop  you,"  said  the  man.  "  Oh !  I  see,"  said  the 
gentleman;  "you're  what  they  call  the  rude  screen, 
aren't  you?" 

A  clergyman  in  the  diocese  of  Wakefield  told  me 
that  when  first  he  came  to  the  parish  he  found  things 
in  a  very  neglected  state,  and  among  other  changes  he 
introduced  an  early  celebration  of  the  Holy  Com- 
munion. An  old  clerk  collected  the  offertory,  and 
when  he  brought  it  up  to  the  clergyman  he  said, 
"There's  eight  on  'em,  but  two  'asn't  paid." 

A  verger  was  showing  a  lady  over  a  church  when 
she  asked  him  if  the  vicar  was  a  married  man.  "  No, 
ma'am,"  he  answered,  "he's  a  chalybeate." 

A  verger  showing  a  large  church  to  a  stranger, 
pointed  out  another  man  and  said,  "That  is  the  other 
verger."  The  gentleman  said,  "  I  did  not  know  there 
were  two  of  you,"  and  the  verger  replied,  "Oh,  yes, 
sir,  he  werges  up  one  side  of  the  church  and  I  werges 
up  the  other." 

On  my  first  visit  to  Almondbury  to  preach,  the 
verger  came  to  me  in  the  vestry  and  said,  "  A've  put  a 
platform  in  t'  pulpit  for  ye  ;  you'll  excuse  me,  but  a 
little  man  looks  as  if  he  was  in  a  toob."  (N.B.  To 
prevent  undue  inferences  I  am  five  feet  nine  inches  in 
height.) 

One  of  the  speakers  at  the  meeting  of  the  Catholic 
Truth  Society  at  Bristol  (Sept.,  1895)  told  a  story 
of  a  pious  Catholic  visiting  Westminster  Abbey,  and 


302  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

kneeling  in  a  quiet  corner  for  private  devotion,  when 
he  was  summoned  in  stentorian  tones  to  come  and  view 
the  royal  tombs  and  chapels.  "  But  I  have  seen  them," 
said  the  stranger,  "and  I  only  wish  to  say  my 
prayers."  "  Prayers  is  over,"  said  the  verger.  "  Still, 
I  suppose,"  said  the  stranger,  "  there  can  be  no  objec- 
tion to  my  saying  my  prayers  quietly  here?"  "No 
objection,  sir!"  said  the  irate  verger.  "Why,  it 
would  be  an  insult  to  the  Dean  and  Chapter." 

The  Rev.  M.  E.  Jenkins  writes  his  remembrances  of 
several  old  clerks. 

There  was  dear  old  Robert  Livesay,  of  Blackburn 
parish  church,  whom  every  one  knew,  his  large  rubi- 
cund face  beaming  with  good  nature  and  humour — a 
very  kindly  old  soul.  In  1870  I  was  appointed  to  an 
old-world  Dale's  parish,  which  had  one  of  the  real  old 
Yorkshire  clerks,  Frank  Hutchinson.  He  was  lame 
and  blind  in  one  eye,  and  well  do  I  recall  his  sonorous 
and  tremulous  response,  his  love  for  the  Psalms  (Tate 
and  Brady's);  he  "reckoned  nought  o'  Hymns 
Ancient  and  Modern"  I  used  generally  to  find  him 
with  a  long  pipe  in  the  vestry  on  my  return  from  after- 
noon service.  He  was  a  great  authority  on  the  ancient 
history  of  the  parish,  and  was  formerly  schoolmaster. 
He  had  brought  up  most  respectably  a  large  family  of 
sons  and  daughters  on  the  smallest  means,  many 
of  whom  still  survive.  I  had  a  great  respect  for  the 
old  man,  and  so  he  had  for  me.  He  was  very  great  at 
leading  that  peculiarly  dirge-like  wail  at  the  huge 
Yorkshire  funerals.  I  never  could  quite  make  out  any 
words,  but  as  a  singularly  effective  and  musical  cadence 
in  a  minor  key,  it  was  no  doubt  a  survival,  as  I  once 
heard  Canon  Atkinson  say,  the  famous  vicar  of  Danby, 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD  CLERKS          303 

my  immediate  neighbour  on  the  moors.  At  last  I 
attended  Frank  Hutchinson  daily  in  his  prolonged 
decay,  and  received  his  solemn  blessing  and  com- 
mendation on  my  work  ;  and  he  received  at  my  hand 
a  few  hours  before  his  death  his  last  communion,  sur- 
rounded by  all  his  children  and  grandchildren,  in  his 
small  bedroom,  by  the  light  of  a  single  candle.  I  can 
still  see  his  thin  face  uplifted.  It  is  thirty-five  years 
ago,  and  I  can  still  hear  the  striking  of  his  lucifer 
match  in  the  midst  of  the  afternoon  service,  and  see 
him  holding  up  close  to  his  own  eye  the  candle  and 
the  book,  and  can  hear  his  tremulous  "  Amen,"  quite 
independent  of  the  choral  one  sung  by  a  small  choir  in 
the  chancel.  He  was  great  in  epitaphs.  A  favourite 
one,  which  he  would  recite  ore  rotundo,  was  : 

"  Let  this  record,  what  few  vain  marbles  can, 
Here  lies  an  honest  man." 

Another,  which,  by  the  way,  is  in  Egton  churchyard, 
ran  as  follows  : 

' '  Life  is  but  a  winter's  day ; 
Some  breakfast  and  away, 
Others  to  dinner  stop  and  are  full  fed, 
The  oldest  man  but  sups  and  goes  to  bed." 

He  was  a  genuine  old  Dalesman  of  a  type  passed 
away.  His  spirits  really  never  survived  the  abolition 
of  the  stringed  instruments  in  the  western  gallery  with 
its  galaxy  of  village  musicians.  "  I  hugged  bass 
fiddle  for  many  a  year,"  he  once  told  me.  Peace  be  to 
his  memory. 

Canon  Atkinson  tells  of  his  good  and  harmless  but 
" feckless"  parish  clerk  and  schoolmaster  at  Danby, 
whom,  when  about  to  take  a  funeral,  he  discovered 
sitting  in  the  sunny  embrasure  of  the  west  window,  with 
his  hat  on,  of  course,  and  comfortably  smoking  his 


304  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

pipe.  The  clerk  was  a  brother  of  the  old  vicar  of 
Danby,  and  they  seem  to  have  been  a  curious  and 
irreverent  pair.  The  historian  of  Danby,  in  his  Forty 
Years  in  a  Moorland  Parish,  fully  describes  his  first 
visit  to  the  clerk's  school,  and  the  strange  custom  of 
weird  singing  at  funerals  to  which  Mr.  Jenkins  alludes. 

Another  north-country  clerk-schoolmaster  was  obliged 
to  relinquish  his  scholastic  duties  and  make  way  for  a 
certified  teacher.  One  day  he  heard  the  new  master  tell 
his  pupils  :  "  '  A  '  is  an  indefinite  article.  '  A  '  is  one, 
and  can  only  be  applied  to  one  thing.  You  cannot  say 
a  cats  or  a  dogs  ;  but  only  a  cat,  a  dog."  The  clerk  at 
once  reported  the  matter  to  his  rector.  "  Here's  a 
pretty  fellow  you've  got  to  keep  school !  He  says  that 
you  can  only  apply  the  article  '  a '  to  nouns  of  the 
singular  number  ;  and  here  have  I  been  singing 
*  A — men  '  all  my  life,  and  your  reverence  has  never 
once  corrected  me." 

Communicated  by  Mrs.  Williamson,  Lydgate  Vicar- 
age : 

The  old  parish  clerk  of  Radcliffe  was  secretary  of  the 
races  committee,  and  would  hurry  out  of  church  to 
attend  these  meetings.  Mr.  Foxley,  the  rector,  was  told 
of  this  weakness  of  his  clerk,  so  one  Wednesday  even- 
ing, when  the  rector  knew  there  was  a  meeting,  he  got 
into  the  pulpit  (a  three-decker  was  then  in  the  church), 
and  began  his  sermon.  Half  an  hour  went  by,  then  the 
clerk  began  to  be  restless.  Another  half-hour  passed  ; 
the  clerk  looked  up  from  his  seat  under  the  pulpit,  but 
still  the  rector  went  on  preaching.  It  was  too  late  then 
for  the  race-course  meeting.  So  when  the  sermon  was 
at  length  finished,  the  clerk  got  up  and  gave  out  "  the 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF   OLD  CLERKS          305 

'undred   and  nineteenth    Psalm   from   yend   to  yend. 
He's  preached  all  day,  and  we'll  sing  all  neet"  (night). 

At  Westhoughton  Church,  Lancashire,  there  was  a 
clerk  of  the  old  school,  one  Platt,  who  just  before  the 
sermon  would  stretch  his  long  arm  and  offer  his  snuff- 
box to  his  old  friend  Betty,  and  to  other  cronies  who 
happened  to  be  in  his  immediate  neighbourhood. 

The  clerk  at  Stratfieldsaye,  who  was  a  character, 
once  astonished  a  strange  clergyman  who  was  taking 
the  duty.  The  choir  sat  in  the  gallery,  and  the  numbers 
were  few  on  that  Sunday.  "  Mon  I  'elp  them  chaps? 
they  be  terrible  few,"  said  the  clerk.  The  clergyman 
quite  agreed  that  he  should  render  them  his  valuable 
assistance,  and  sit  in  the  gallery.  Presently  a  man 
came  in  late,  and  was  kneeling  down  to  say  his  private 
prayer,  when  the  clergyman  was  horrified  to  see  the 
clerk  deliberately  rise  in  the  gallery  and  throw  a  book 
at  the  man's  head.  When  remonstrated  with  after 
service  the  clerk  replied  carelessly,  "  Oh,  it  were  only 
my  way  o'  telling  him  to  sing  up,  as  we  were  terrible 
short  this  marning." 


CHAPTER  XXI 
CURIOUS   STORIES 

old  clerk  of  Clapham,  Bedford,  Mr.  Thomas 
A  Maddams,  always  used  to  read  his  own  version 
of  Psalm  xxxix.  12  :  "Like  as  it  were  a  moth  fretting 
in  a  garment."  Apparently  his  idea  was  of  a  moth 
annoyed  at  being  in  a  garment  from  which  it  could  not 
escape. 

A  parish  clerk  (who  prided  himself  upon  being  well 
read)  occupied  his  seat  below  the  old  "three-decker" 
pulpit,  and  whenever  a  quotation  or  an  extract  from 
the  classics  was  introduced  into  the  sermon  he,  in  an 
undertone,  muttered  its  source,  much  to  the  annoyance 
of  the  preacher  and  amusement  of  the  congregation. 
Despite  all  protests  in  private,  the  thing  continued, 
until  one  day,  the  vicar's  patience  being  exhausted,  he 
leant  over  the  pulpit  side  and  immediately  exclaimed, 
"Drat  you;  shut  up!"  Immediately,  in  the  clerk's 
usual  sententious  tone,  came  the  reply,  "His  own." 
(William  Haggard,  Liverpool  Daily  Post.} 

N.B.  I  have  heard  this  story  before,  and  in  a 
different  key : 

The  preacher  was  a  young,  bumptious  fellow,  fond 
of  quoting  the  classics,  etc.  One  day  a  learned  classic 
scholar  attended  his  service,  and  was  heard  to  say, 
after  each  quotation,  "That's  Horace,"  "That's  Plato," 

306 


CURIOUS   STORIES  307 

and  such-like,  until  the  preacher  was  at  his  "  wits' 
ends"  how  to  quiet  the  man.  At  last,  leaning  over  the 
pulpit,  he  looked  the  man  in  the  face,  and  is  reported 
to  have  said,  "  Who  the  devil  are  you? "  ''That's  his 
own ! "  was  the  prompt  response. 

In  one  of  the  village  churches  near  Honiton,  in 
1864,  the  usual  duet  between  the  parson  and  clerk  had 
been  the  custom,  when  the  vicar  appealed  to  the  con- 
gregation to  take  their  part.  In  a  little  while  they  took 
courage,  and  did  so.  This  annoyed  the  clerk,  and  he 
could  not  make  the  responses,  and  made  so  many  mis- 
takes that  the  vicar  drew  his  attention  to  the  matter. 
He  replied,  with  much  irritation,  "How  can  /  do  the 
service  with  a  lot  of  men  and  women  a-buzzing  and 
a-fizzing  about  me?" 

A  somewhat  similar  story  is  told  of  another  church  : 
An  old  gentleman,  now  in  his  eightieth  year,  re- 
members attending  Romford  Church  when  a  youth, 
and  says  that  at  that  time  (1840)  the  parish  clerk  was  a 
person  who  greatly  magnified  his  office.  On  one  occa- 
sion he  checked  the  young  man  for  audibly  respond- 
ing, on  the  ground  that  he,  the  clerk,  was  the  person 
to  respond  audibly,  and  that  other  people  were  to  re- 
spond inaudibly. 

Communicated  by  Miss  Emily  J.  Heaton,  of  Sitting- 
bourne  : 

My  father  lived  and  worked  as  the  clergyman  of  a 
parish  until  he  was  eighty-nine  years  of  age.  He 
remembered  a  clerk  in  a  Yorkshire  parish  in  the  time 
of  one  of  the  Georges.  The  clergyman  said  the  ver- 
sicle,  "O  Lord,  save  the  King,"  and  the  clerk  made 
no  reply.  The  prayer  was  repeated,  but  still  no 


3o8  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

answer.     He  then  touched  the  clerk,  who  sat  in  the 
desk  below,  and  who  replied  : 

"  A  we'ant !     He  won't  tak  tax  off  'bacca ! " 

Communicated  by  Mr.  Frederick  Sherlock : 
I  remember  as  a  lad  attending  a  church  which  owned 
a  magnificent  specimen  of  the  parish  clerk.  He  used  to 
wear  a  dress-coat,  and  it  was  his  practice  to  follow  the 
clergy  from  the  vestry,  and  while  the  vicar  and  curate 
were  saying  their  private  prayers  in  the  reading-desk 
in  which  they  both  sat  together,  the  venerable  clerk 
with  measured  tread  passed  down  the  centre  of  the 
church  affably  smiling  and  bowing  right  and  left  to  such 
of  the  parishioners  as  were  in  his  favour.  In  due 
course  he  arrived  in  the  singers'  gallery,  where  he  had 
the  place  of  honour  under  the  organ  :  the  good  old 
man  was  leading  soloist,  which  we  well  knew  when 
Jackson's  Te  Deum  was  sung  on  the  greater  festivals, 
for  there  was  always  a  solemn  pause  before  the  vener- 
able worthy  quavered  forth  his  solo. 

It  was  a  pew-rented  church,  and  once  a  quarter 
strangers  were  startled,  when  the  vicar  from  his  place 
in  the  reading-desk  had  announced  the  various  engage- 
ments of  the  week,  to  hear  the  clerk's  majestic  voice 
from  his  place  in  the  gallery  add,  "  And  /  beg  to 
announce"  (with  a  marked  emphasis  on  the  /)  "that 
the  churchwardens  will  attend  in  the  vestry  on  Monday, 
Tuesday,  and  Wednesday  next,  at  eight  o'clock,  for 
the  purpose  of  receiving  pew  rents  and  letting  seats  for 
the  ensuing  quarter." 

As  touching  parish  clerks,  it  is  of  interest  to  recall 
that  William  Maybrick  was  clerk  of  St.  Peter's,  Liver- 
pool, from  1813-48.  He  had  two  sons,  William,  who 


CURIOUS   STORIES  309 

became  clerk,  and  Michael,  who  was  organist  at  St. 
Peter's  for  many  years.  William  Maybrick,  junior, 
had  also  two  sons,  James,  whose  name  was  so  much 
before  the  public  owing  to  the  circumstances  surround- 
ing his  death,  and  Michael,  better  known  as  "Stephen 
Adams,"  the  famous  composer  and  singer. 

The  following  is  a  curious  letter  from  a  parish  clerk 
to  his  vicar  after  giving  notice  to  quit  the  latter's  service. 
He  was  clerk  of  the  parish  of  Maldon,  Essex. 

DEAR  AND  REV.  SIR, 

I  avail  myself  of  the  opportunity  of  troubling 
your  honour  with  these  lines,  which  I  hope  you  will 
excuse,  which  is  the  very  sentiments  of  your  humble 
servant's  heart.  Ignorantly,  rashly,  but  reluctantly, 
I  gave  you  warning  to  leave  your  highly  respected 
office  and  most  amiable  duty,  as  being  your  servant, 
and  clerk  of  this  your  most  well  wished  parish,  and 
place  of  my  succour  and  support. 

But,  dear  Sir,  I  well  know  it  was  no  fault  of  yours 
nor  from  any  of  my  most  worthy  parishioners.  It 
were  because  I  thought  I  were  not  sufficiently  paid  for 
the  interments  of  the  silent  dead.  But  will  I  be  a 
Judas  and  leave  the  house  of  my  God,  the  place  where 
His  Honour  dwelleth  for  a  few  pieces  of  money?  No. 
Will  I  be  a  Peter  and  deny  myself  of  an  office  in  His 
Sanctuary  and  cause  me  to  weep  bitterly  ?  No.  Can 
I  be  so  unreasonable  as  to  deny,  if  I  like  and  am  well, 
to  ring  that  solemn  bell  that  speaks  the  departure  of 
a  soul?  No.  Can  I  leave  digging  the  tombs  of  my 
neighbours  and  acquaintances  which  have  many  a 
time  made  me  shudder  and  think  of  my  mortality, 
when  I  have  dug  up  the  mortal  remains  of  some  per- 


3io  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

haps  as  I  well  knew?  No.  And  can  I  so  abruptly 
forsake  the  service  of  my  beloved  Church  of  which 
I  have  not  failed  to  attend  every  Sunday  for  these 
seven  and  a  half  years?  No.  Can  I  leave  waiting 
upon  you  a  minister  of  that  Being  that  sitteth  between 
the  Cherubim  and  flieth  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind? 
No.  Can  I  leave  the  place  where  our  most  holy 
services  nobly  calls  forth  and  says,  "  Those  whom  God 
have  joined  together"  (and  being  as  I  am  a  married 
man)  "let  no  man  put  asunder"?  No.  And  can  I 
leave  that  ordinance  where  you  say  then  and  there  "  I 
baptize  thee  in  the  name  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son 
and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  and  he  becomes  regenerate 
and  is  grafted  into  the  body  of  Christ's  Church?  No. 
And  can  I  think  of  leaving  off  cleaning  at  Easter  the 
House  of  God  in  which  I  take  such  delight,  in  look- 
ing down  her  aisles  and  beholding  her  sanctuaries 
and  the  table  of  the  Lord?  No.  And  can  I  forsake 
taking  part  in  the  service  of  Thanksgiving  of  women 
after  childbirth  when  mine  own  wife  has  been  delivered 
ten  times?  No.  And  can  I  leave  off  waiting  on  the 
congregation  of  the  Lord  which  you  well  know,  Sir, 
is  my  delight?  No.  And  can  I  forsake  the  Table  of 
the  Lord  at  which  I  have  feasted  I  suppose  some  thirty 
times?  No.  And,  dear  Sir,  can  I  ever  forsake  you 
who  have  been  so  kind  to  me?  No.  And  I  well 
know  you  will  not  entreat  me  to  leave,  neither  to 
return  from  following  after  you,  for  where  you  pray 
there  will  I  pray,  where  you  worship  there  will  I 
worship.  Your  Church  shall  be  my  Church,  your 
people  shall  be  my  people  and  your  God  my  God.  By 
the  waters  of  Babylon  am  I  to  sit  down  and  weep  and 
leave  thee,  O  my  Church  !  and  hang  my  harp  upon  the 
trees  that  grow  therein?  No.  One  thing  have  I  desired 


CURIOUS   STORIES  3ti 

of  the  Lord  that  I  will  require  even  that  I  may  dwell 
in  the  House  of  the  Lord  and  to  visit  His  temple. 
More  to  be  desired  of  me,  O  my  Church,  than  gold, 
yea  than  fine  gold,  sweeter  to  me  than  honey  and  the 
honeycomb. 

Now,  kind  Sir,  the  very  desire  of  my  heart  is  still 
to  wait  upon  you.  Please  tell  the  Churchwardens  all 
is  reconciled,  and  if  not,  I  will  get  me  away  into  the 
wilderness,  and  hide  me  in  the  desert,  in  the  cleft  of 
the  rock.  But  I  hope  still  to  be  your  Gehazi  and 
when  I  meet  my  Shunamite  to  say  ''All,  all  is  well." 
And  I  will  conclude  my  blunders  with  my  oft-repeated 
prayer,  "Glory  be  to  the  Father  and  to  the  Son  and 
to  the  Holy  Ghost.  As  it  was  in  the  beginning,  is 
now,  and  ever  shall  be,  world  without  end.  Amen." 

P.S.  Now,  Sir,  I  shall  go  on  with  my  fees  the  same 
as  I  found  them,  and  will  make  no  more  trouble  about 
them,  but  I  will  not,  I  cannot  leave  you,  nor  your 

delightful  duties. 

Your  most  obedient  servant, 

GEORGE  G G. 

The  Rev.  E.  G ,  Vicar  of  Maldon. 

Communicated  by  the  Rev.  D.  C.  Moore : 
In  the  parish  of  Belton,  Suffolk,  there  died  in  1837 
a  man  named  Noah  Pole.  He  had  been  clerk  for  sixty 
years.  He  wore  a  smock-frock  ;  gave  out  all  notices — 
a  strayed  horse,  a  found  sheep,  etc.  He  was  known 
by  the  nickname  of  "Never,  never  shall  be,"  for  in 
this  way  he  had  for  sixty  years  perverted  the  last  part 
of  the  "  Gloria,"  "  now  and  ever  shall  be." 

In  the  parish  of  Lowestoft,  Suffolk,  in  the  forties 
the  parish  clerk's  name  was  Newson  (would-be  wits 
called  him  "  Nuisance  ").  He  was  arrayed  in  a  velvet- 


312  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

trimmed  robe  and  bore  himself  bravely.  The  way  in 
which  he  mouthed  "Let  us  sing  to  the  glory  of 
God "  was  wonderful.  But  the  chief  amusement  he 
afforded  was  the  habit  of  hiding  his  face  in  his  hands 
during  each  prayer,  then  towards  the  ending  his  head 
would  rise  till  it  rested  on  his  thumbs,  and  then  came 
out  sonorously,  "  Awl-men." 

At  St.  Mary's,  Southtown  (near  Great  Yarmouth), 
in  the  late  thirties,  etc.,  a  man  named  Nolloth  was 
clerk.  He  was  celebrated  for  the  uncertainty  of 
his  "  H's."  For  example  :  "  Let  us  sing  to  the  praise 
and  glory  of  God  the  Heighty-heighth  ymn." 

At  Gorleston  (the  mother  church  of  St.  Mary's, 
named  above)  a  tailor  named  Bristow  was  clerk.  He 
was  a  very  small  man,  and  he  had  a  son  he  wished  to 
succeed  him.  The  clerk's  desk  was  pretty  wide  and 
they  sat  together.  I  can  see  them  (sixty  years  after), 
one  leaning  on  his  right  arm,  the  other  on  his  left ; 
and  when  the  time  came,  the  duet  was  Ah-men  from 
the  elder  and  A-men  from  the  younger,  one  in  "tenor" 
the  other  "  treble."  We  schoolboys  used  to  say  "  Big 
pig,  little  pig." 

Nicholson,  the  clerk  of  St.  Bees,  if  any  student  was 
called  away  in  term,  invariably  gave  out  Psalm  cvii., 
fourth  part,  "  They  that  in  ships  with  courage  bold." 
In  those  days  there  were  no  trains  and  no  hymns. 

At  Barkham  there  is  an  old  clerk  who  succeeded  his 
father  half  a  century  ago. 

During  the  rebuilding  of  the  church  his  sire,  whose 
name  was  Elijah,  once  visited  a  neighbouring  parish 
church,  and  arrived  rather  late,  just  when  the  rector 
was  giving  out  the  text:  "What  doest  thou  here, 


CURIOUS   STORIES  313 

Elijah?"  Elijah  gave  a  respectful  salute,  and  replied  : 
"Please,  sur,  Barkham  Church  is  undergoing  repair, 
so  I  be  cumed  'ere  !  " 

Canon  Rawnsley  tells  a  pathetic  little  story  of  an 
old  clerk  who  begged  him  not  to  read  the  service  so 
fast:  "For  you  moost  gie  me  toime,  Mr.  Rawnsley, 
you  moost  i'deed.  You  moost  gie  me  toime,  for  I've 
a  graaceless  wife  an'  two  godless  soons  to  praay  for." 

Hawker  tells  a  story  of  the  parish  clerk  at  Morwen- 
stow  whose  wife  used  to  wash  the  parson's  surplices. 
He  came  home  one  night  from  a  prolonged  visit  at  the 
village  inn,  the  "Bush,"  and  finding  his  wife's  scolding 
not  to  his  mind  and  depressing,  he  said,  "  Look  yere, 
my  dear,  if  you  doan't  stop,  I'll  go  straight  back 
again."  She  did  not  stop,  so  he  left  the  house;  but 
the  wife  donned  one  of  the  surplices  and,  making  a 
short  cut,  stood  in  front  of  her  approaching  husband. 
He  was  terrified  ;  but  at  last  he  remembered  his  official 
position,  and  the  thought  gave  him  courage. 

"Avide,  Satan  !"  he  said  in  a  thick,  slow  voice. 

The  figure  made  no  answer. 

"Avide,  Satan!"  he  shouted  again.  "Doan't  'e 
knaw  I  be  clerk  of  the  parish,  bass-viol  player,  and 
taicher  of  the  singers?" 

When  the  apparition  failed  to  be  impressed  the  clerk 
turned  tail  and  fled.  The  ghost  returned  by  a  short 
cut,  and  the  clerk  found  his  wife  calmly  ironing  the 
parson's  surplice.  He  did  not  return  to  the  "Bush" 
that  night. 

The  old  parish  clerk  of  Dagenham  had  a  habit  when 
stating  the  names  to  be  entered  into  the  register  of 
saying,  Plain  Robert  or  John,  etc.,  meaning  that 
Robert,  etc.,  was  the  only  Christian  name.  On  one 


3*4  'THE   PARISH   CLERK 

occasion  a  strange  clergyman  baptized  a  child  there, 
and  being  unable  to  hear  the  name  as  given  by  the 
parents,  looked  inquiringly  at  the  clerk.  "  Plain  Jane, 
sir,"  he  called  out  in  a  stentorian  voice.  "  What  a  pity 
to  label  the  child  thus,"  the  clergyman  rejoined  ;  u  she 
might  grow  up  to  be  a  beautiful  girl."  "  Jane  only,  I 
mean,"  explained  the  clerk. 

All  clergymen  know  the  difficulty  of  changing  the 
names  of  the  sovereign  and  the  Royal  Family  at  the 
commencement  of  the  reign  of  a  new  monarch. 

In  a  certain  parish  in  the  south  of  England  (the  name 
of  which  I  do  not  know,  or  have  forgotten),  at  the  time 
of  the  accession  of  Her  late  Majesty  Queen  Victoria, 
the  rector  charged  his  clerk  to  make  the  necessary 
alterations  in  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  required  by 
the  sex  of  the  new  sovereign.  The  clerk  made  all  the 
needed  alterations  with  the  greatest  care  as  regards 
both  titles  and  pronouns  ;  but  not  only  this,  he  carried 
on  the  changes  throughout  the  Psalter.  Consequently, 
on  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  of  the  month,  for 
instance,  the  rector  found  Psalm  xxi.  rendered  thus : 
"The  Queen  shall  rejoice  in  Thy  strength,  O  Lord: 
exceeding  glad  shall  She  be  of  Thy  salvation,",  and 
so  on  throughout  the  course  of  the  Psalms  and  the 
whole  of  the  Psalter.  Also  in  the  prayer  for  the 
Church  Militant,  when  prayer  is  made  for  all  Christian 
kings,  princes,  etc.,  the  distracted  vicar  found  the 
words  changed  into  "  Queen,  Princesses,  etc."  After 
all,  the  clerk  showed  his  thoroughness,  but  nothing 
short  of  a  new  Prayer  Book  could  satisfy  the  needs  of 
the  vicar.1 

1  From  the  information  of  Miss  Marion  Stirling-,  who  heard  the  story 
from  Prebendary  Thornton. 


CURIOUS   STORIES  315 

Canon  Gregory  Smith  tells  the  following  story  of  a 
clerk  in  Herefordshire,  who  flourished  half  a  century 
ago: 

In  the  west-end  gallery  of  the  old-fashioned  little 
church  were  musicians  with  fifes,  etc.  etc.  Sometimes, 
if  they  started  badly  in  a  hymn,  the  clerk  would  say 
to  the  congregation,  "  Beg  pardon,  gents ;  we'll  try 
again." 

As  I  left  home  one  day,  the  clerk  ran  after  me. 
1  'But,  sir,  who'll  take  the  duty  on  St.  Swithin's 
Day?" 

Once  or  twice,  being  somnolent,  on  a  hot  afternoon 
he  woke  up  suddenly  with  a  loud  "Amen"  in  the 
middle  of  the  sermon. 

When  I  said  good-bye  to  him,  having  resigned  the 
benefice,  he  said,  very  gravely,  "God  will  give  us 
another  comforter." 

An  old  country  clerk  in  showing  visitors  round  the 
churchyard  used  to  stop  at  a  certain  tombstone  and 
say : 

"This  'ere  is  the  tomb  of  Thomas  'Ooper  and  'is 
eleven  wives." 

One  day  a  lady  remarked:  "Eleven?  Dear  me, 
that's  rather  a  lot,  isn't  it?" 

The  old  man  looked  at  her  gravely  and  replied : 
"  Well,  mum,  yer  see  it  wus  an'  'obby  of  'is'n." 

The  Rev.  W.  D.  Parish,  in  his  Dictionary  of  the 
Sussex  Dialect,  tells  of  a  friend  of  his  who  had  been 
remonstrating  with  one  of  his  parishioners  for  abusing 
the  parish  clerk  beyond  the  bounds  of  neighbourly 
.expression,  and  who  received  the  following  answer: 
"You  be  quite  right,  sir  ;  you  be  quite  right.  I'd  no 
ought  to  have  said  what  I  did  ;  but  I  doant  mind  tell- 


316  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

ing  you  to  your  head  what  I've  said  so  many  times 
behind  your  back.  We've  got  a  good  shepherd,  I 
says,  an  excellent  shepherd,  but  he's  got  an  unaccount- 
able bad  dog." 

Some  seventy  or  eighty  years  ago  at  Thame  Church, 
Buckinghamshire,  the  old-fashioned  clerk  had  a  much- 
worn  Prayer  Book,  and  the  parson  and  he  made  a  duet 
of  the  responses,  the  congregation  not  considering  it 
necessary  or  even  proper  to  interfere.  When  the 
clerk  happened  to  come  to  a  verse  of  the  Psalms  with 
words  missing  he  said  "riven  out"  (pronounced  66t), 
and  the  parson  finished  the  verse  ;  this  was  taken  quite 
as  a  matter  of  course  by  the  congregation. 

In  a  Lancashire  church,  when  the  rector  was  about 
to  publish  the  banns  of  marriage,  the  book  was  not  in 
its  usual  place.  However,  he  began  :  "  I  publish  the 
banns  of  marriage  ...  I  publish  .  .  .  the  banns " 
— when  the  clerk  looked  up  from  the  lowest  box  of  the 
"three-decker,"  and  said  in  a  tone  not  sotto  voce, 
11  'Twixt  th*  cushion  and  th'  desk,  sur." 

Prayer  Book  words  are  sometimes  a  puzzle  to  illite- 
rate clerks.  At  the  present  time  in  a  Berkshire  church 
the  clerk  always  speaks  of  "  Athanasian's  Creed,"  and 
of  "the  Anthony-Communion  hymn." 

His  views  of  art  are  occasionally  curious.  An  odd 
specimen  of  his  race  was  showing  to  some  strangers  a 
stained-glass  window  recently  erected  in  memory  of  a 
gentleman  and  lady  who  had  just  died.  It  was  a  two- 
light  window  with  figures  of  Moses  and  Aaron.  ' '  There 
they  be,  sir,  but  they  don't  much  feature  the  old 
couple,"  said  the  clerk,  who  regarded  them  as  like- 
nesses of  the  deceased. 


CURIOUS   STORIES  317 

A  clergyman  on  one  occasion  had  some  trouble  with 
his  dog.  This  dog  emulated  the  achievements  of 
Newton's  "Fido,"and  tore  and  devoured  some  leaves  of 
the  parson's  sermon.  The  parson  was  taking  the  duty 
of  a  neighbour,  and  feared  lest  his  mutilated  discourse 
would  be  too  short  for  the  edification  of  the  congre- 
gation. So  after  the  service  he  consulted  the  clerk. 
11  Was  my  sermon  too  long  to-day?"  "No,"  replied 
the  clerk.  "Then  was  it  too  short  ?  "  "  Nay,  you  was 
jist  about  right."  Much  relieved,  the  parson  then  told 
the  clerk  the  story  of  the  dog's  misdemeanours,  and  of 
his  fear  lest  the  sermon  should  prove  too  short.  The 
old  clerk  scratched  his  head  and  then  exclaimed,  with  a 

very  solemn  face,   "  Ah  !  maister ,  our  parson  be  a 

grade  sight  too  long  to  plaise  us.    Would  you  just  give 
him  a  pup?  " 

A  writer  in  Notes  and  Queries  tells  a  story  of  an  old- 
fashioned  service,  and  with  this  we  will  conclude  our 
collection  of  curious  tales. 

A  lady  friend  of  the  writer  still  living,  and  the 
daughter  of  a  clergyman,  assured  him  that  in  a  country 
parish,  where  the  church  service  was  conducted  in  a 
very  free-and-easy,  go-as-you-please  sort  of  way,  the 
clerk,  looking  up  at  the  parson,  asked,  "What  shall 
we  do  next,  zurr?" 


CHAPTER   XXII 

LONGEVITY   AND   HEREDITY— THE   DEACON- 
CLERKS   OF   BARNSTAPLE 

r  I  ^HERE  are  numerous  instances  of  the  hereditary 
JL  nature  of  the  clerk's  office,  which  has  frequently 
been  passed  on  from  father  to  son  through  several 
generations.  I  have  already  mentioned  the  Osbornes 
of  Belbroughton,  Worcestershire,  who  were  parish 
clerks  and  tailors  in  the  village  from  the  time  of 
Henry  VIII,  and  the  Worralls  of  Wolverley  in  the 
same  county,  whose  reign  extended  over  a  century. 

David  Clarkson,  the  parish  clerk  of  Feckenham,  died 
in  1854,  and  his  ancestors  occupied  the  same  office  for 
two  centuries.  King's  Norton  had  a  famous  race  of 
clerks,  of  the  name  of  Ford,  who  also  served  for  the 
same  period.  The  Fords  were  a  long-lived  family,  as 
two  of  them  held  the  office  for  102  years.  Cuthbert 
Bede  mentions  also  the  following  remarkable  instances 
of  heredity  : 

The  Roses  were  parish  clerks  at  Bromsgrove  from 
"time  out  of  mind."  The  Bonds  were  parish  clerks 
at  St.  Michael's,  Worcester,  for  a  century.  John 
Tustin  had  in  1856  been  clerk  of  Broadway  for  fifty-two 
years,  his  father  and  grandfather  having  previously 
held  the  office.  Charles  Orford  died  at  Oldswinford 
December  28th,  1855,  aged  seventy-three  years,  having 


LONGEVITY  AND   HEREDITY  319 

been  parish  clerk  from  his  youth,  and  having  suc- 
ceeded his  father  in  that  capacity :  he  was  succeeded 
by  his  son  Thomas  Orford,  who  was  again  succeeded 
by  his  own  son  William,  one  of  the  present  vergers 
in  this  church,  aged  seventy  years.  All  these  examples 
are  taken  from  parishes  in  Worcestershire.  An  extra- 
ordinary instance  of  longevity  and  heredity  occurs  in 
the  annals  of  the  parish  of  Chapel-en-le-Frith,  Derby- 
shire. Peter  Bramwell,  clerk  of  the  parish,  died  in 
1854,  after  having  held  the  office  for  forty-three  years. 
His  father  Peter  Bramwell  was  clerk  for  fifty  years,  his 
grandfather  George  Bramwell  for  thirty-eight  years, 
his  great-great-grandfather  George  Bramwell  for  forty 
years,  and  his  great-great-great-grandfather  Peter 
Bramwell  for  fifty-two  years.  The  total  number  of 
years  during  which  the  parish  was  served  by  this 
family  of  clerks  was  223,  and  by  only  five  members 
of  it,  giving  an  average  of  forty-four  years  and  nine 
months  for  each — a  wonderful  record  truly  ! 

Nor  are  these  instances  of  the  hereditary  nature  of 
the  office,  and  of  the  fact  that  the  duties  of  the  position 
seem  to  contribute  to  the  lengthened  days  of  the 
holders  of  it,  entirely  passed  away.  The  riverside  town 
of  Marlow,  Buckinghamshire,  furnishes  an  example  of 
this.  Mr.  H.  W.  Badger  has  occupied  the  position  of 
parish  clerk  for  half  a  century,  and  a  few  months  ago 
was  presented  by  the  townspeople  with  an  illuminated 
address,  together  with  a  purse  of  fifty-five  sovereigns, 
in  recognition  of  his  long  term  of  service  and  of  the 
esteem  in  which  he  is  held.  He  was  appointed  in  1855 
in  succession  to  his  father,  Henry  Badger,  appointed 
in  1832,  who  succeeded  his  grandfather,  Wildsmith 
Badger,  who  became  parish  clerk  in  1789. 

The  oldest  parish  clerk  living  is  James  Came,  who 


320  THE    PARISH    CLERK 

serves  in  the  parish  of  St.  Columb  Minor,  Cornwall, 
and  has  held  the  office  for  fifty-eight  years.  He  is 
now  in  his  hundred  and  first  year,  and  still  is  unre- 
mitting in  attention  to  duty,  and  regularly  attends 
church.  He  followed  in  the  wake  of  his  father  and 
grandfather,  who  filled  the  same  position  for  fifty-four 
years  and  fifty  years  respectively. 

Mr.  Edward  J.  Lupson  is  the  much-respected  parish 
clerk  of  Great  Yarmouth,  who  is  a  great  authority  on 
the  history  of  the  important  church  in  which  he 
officiates,  and  is  the  author  of  several  books.  He  has 
written  an  excellent  guide  to  the  church  of  St.  Nicholas, 
and  a  volume  entitled  Cupid's  Pupils,  compiled  from  the 
personal  ''recollections  of  a  parish  clerk  who  assisted 
at  ten  thousand  four  hundred  marriages  and  gave  away 
eleven  hundred  and  thirty  brides" — a  wonderful  record, 
which,  as  the  book  was  published  seven  years  ago, 
has  now  been  largely  exceeded.  The  book  is  brightly 
written,  and  abounds  in  the  records  of  amusing  in- 
stances of  nervous  and  forgetful  brides  and  bride- 
grooms, of  extraordinary  blunders,  of  the  failings  of 
inexperienced  clergy,  and  is  a  full  and  complete  guide 
to  those  who  contemplate  matrimony.  His  guide  to 
the  church  he  loves  so  well  is  admirable.  It  appears 
there  is  a  clerks'  book  at  Great  Yarmouth,  which 
contains  a  number  of  interesting  notes  and  memor- 
anda. The  clerks  of  this  church  were  men  of  import- 
ance and  position  in  the  town.  In  1760  John  Marsh, 
who  succeeded  Sampson  Winn,  was  a  town  councillor. 
He  was  succeeded  in  1785  by  Mr.  Richard  Pitt,  the 
son  of  a  former  mayor,  and  he  and  his  wife  and 
sixteen  children  were  interred  in  the  north  chancel 
aisle,  where  a  mural  monument  records  their  memories. 
The  clerks  at  this  period,  until  1831,  were  appointed  by 


JAMES  CARNE,   PARISH  CLERK  OF  ST.  COLUMB-MINOK,  CORNWALL 

THE  OLDEST   LIVING   CLEKK 


LONGEVITY  AND   HEREDITY  321 

the  corporation  and  paid  by  the  borough.  In  1800 
Mr.  Richard  Miller  resigned  his  aldermanic  gown  to 
accept  the  office.  Mr.  David  Absolon  (1811-31)  was  a 
member  of  the  corporation  before  receiving  the  appoint- 
ment. Mr.  John  Seaman  reigned  from  1831  to  1841, 
and  was  followed  by  Mr.  James  Burman,  who  was 
the  last  clerk  who  took  part  in  that  curious  duet  with 
the  vicar,  to  which  we  have  often  referred.  He  was 
an  accomplished  campanologist  and  composed  several 
peals.  In  1863  Mr.  Lupson  was  appointed,  who  has 
so  much  honoured  his  office  and  earned  the  respect  of 
all  who  know  him.  The  old  fashion  of  the  clerk 
wearing  gown  and  bands  is  continued  at  Great 
Yarmouth. 

Mr.  Lupson  tells  of  his  strange  experiences  when 
conducting  visitors  round  the  church,  and  explaining 
to  them  the  varied  objects  of  interest.  What  our 
clerks  have  to  put  up  with  may  be  news  to  many.  I 
will  give  it  in  his  own  words  : 

Although  a  congenial  and  profitable  engagement, 
it  was  often  felt  to  be  weary  work,  talking  about  the 
same  things  many  times  each  day  week  after  week:  and 
anything  but  easy  to  exhibit  the  freshness  and  retain 
the  vivacity  that  was  desirable.  Fortunately  the 
monotony  of  the  recital  found  considerable  relief  from 
the  varied  receptions  it  met  with.  Among  the  many 
thousand  individuals,  of  all  grades  and  classes,  from 
the  highest  to  the  lowest,  thus  come  in  contact  with, 
a  diversified  and  wide  range  of  characters  was  inevit- 
able. The  vast  majority  happily  consisted  of  persons 
with  whom  it  was  pleasant  to  spend  half  an  hour 
within  the  sacred  walls,  so  gratified  were  they  with 
what  they  saw  and  heard  :  some  proving  so  enthusi- 
astic, and  showing  such  absorbing  interest,  that  at 


322  THE    PARISH    CLERK 

every  convenient  halting-place  they  would  take  a  seat, 
and  comfortably  adjust  themselves  as  if  preparing  to 
hear  an  address  from  a  favourite  preacher.  Occasion- 
ally, however,  we  had  to  endure  the  presence  of  persons 
who  appeared  to  be  suffering  from  disordered  livers, 
or  had  nettles  in  their  boots,  so  restless  and  dissatisfied 
were  they.  Scarcely  anything  pleased  them.  Unde- 
sirable individuals  would  sometimes  be  discovered  in 
the  midst  of  otherwise  pleasant  parties.  Of  such  may  be 
mentioned  those  who  knew  of  much  finer  churches  they 
could  really  admire.  Whenever  we  heard  the  preface 
— "There's  one  thing  strikes  me  in  this  church" — 
we  were  prepared  to  hear  a  depreciatory  remark  of 
some  kind.  Some  would  take  pleasure  in  breaking  the 
sequence  of  the  story  by  anticipating  matters  not  then 
reached,  and  causing  divers  interruptions.  Others 
would  annoy  by  preferring  persistent  speaking  to 
listening.  It  was  trying  work  going  round  with,  and 
explaining  to,  persons  from  whom  nothing  but  mono- 
syllables could  be  drawn,  either  through  nervousness, 
or  from  realising  their  exalted  status  to  be  miles  above 
the  person  who  was  supposing  himself  able  to  interest 
them.  Anything  but  desirable  persons  were  they  who, 
after  going  round  the  church,  returned  with  other 
friends,  and  then  posed  as  men  whose  knowledge  of  the 
building  was  equal,  if  not  a  shade  superior,  to  that 
of  the  guide.  Some  parties  would  waste  the  time,  and 
try  one's  patience  by  having  amongst  them  laggards, 
to  whom  explanations  already  given  had  to  be  repeated. 
But  we  must  pass  by  others,  and  proceed.  The  mind 
would  sometimes  find  diversion  by  observing  the 
idiosyncrasies,  and  detecting  the  pretensions  of  in- 
dividuals. Gradually  gaining  acquaintance  as  we 
proceeded,  we  occasionally  discovered  some  were  aping 


LONGEVITY  AND   HEREDITY  323 

gentility  :  some  assuming  positions  that  knew  them 
not,  and  some  claiming  talents  they  did  not  possess. 
We  will  unmask  a  specimen  of  the  latter  class.  A 
man,  who  was  unaccompanied  by  friends,  wished  to 
see  the  church  he  had  heard  so  much  of.  He  seemed 
about  thirty  years  of  age  ;  was  a  made-up  exquisite, 
looking  very  imposing,  peering  as  he  did  through 
gold-rimmed  spectacles.  His  talents  were  of  such  an 
order  he  could  not  think  of  hiding  them.  He  had 
learned  Hebrew,  not  from  printed  books,  as  ordinary 
scholars  are  wont  to  do,  but  from  MSS.,  and  found  it 
so  easy  a  matter,  it  "  only  took  two  hours,"  and  it  was 
simply  "out  of  curiosity"  that  he  undertook  it.  Before 
mentally  placing  this  paragon  among  the  classics,  we 
showed  him  our  MS.  Roll  (exquisitely  written,  as 
many  visitors  are  aware,  in  unpointed  Hebrew),  and 
asked  him  to  read  a  few  words.  This  was  indeed 
pricking  the  bubble.  Tell  it  not  in  Gath,  but  pub- 
lish we  will,  the  discovery  we  instantly  made.  Our 
Hebrew  scholar  had  forgotten  that  Hebrew  ran  from 
right  to  left  1  and  worse  still,  he  even  shook  his  intel- 
lectual head,  and  gravely  confessed  that  he  "wasn't 
quite  sure  but  that  the  Roll  was  written  in  Greek." 

Other  sources  of  relief  to  the  mind  jaded  with  con- 
stant repetition  arose  from  the  peculiar  remarks  that 
were  made,  and  the  strange  questions  that  were  often 
asked. 

The  organ  has  been  a  source  of  wonderment  to 
multitudes  who  had  never  seen  or  heard  of  a  divided 
organ.  Wonderful  stories  had  reached  the  ears  of 
some  respecting  it. 

"Is  this  the  organ  that  was  wrecked?"  "Is  this 
the  organ  that  was  dug  out  of  the  sea?"  "  Is  this  the 
organ  that  was  taken  out  of  the  Spanish  galleon?" 


324  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

"Wasn't  this  organ  smuggled  out  of  some  ship?" 
"  Didn't  it  belong  to  Handel?"  "  Wasn't  this  organ 
made  for  St.  Peter's  at  Rome  ?  "  With  confidence  says 
one,  "This  organ  really  belongs  to  the  continent;  it 
was  confiscated  in  some  war."  Whilst  another  as  con- 
fidently asserts  that  "it  was  built  in  Holland  for  one 
of  the  English  cathedrals,  and  the  vessel  that  con- 
veyed it  was  caught  in  a  storm  and  wrecked  upon 
Yarmouth  beach  ;  it  was  then  taken  possession  of  by 
the  inhabitants  and  erected  in  this  church."  Others, 
wishing  to  show  their  intimate  knowledge  of  this 
instrument,  have  told  their  friends  that  the  trumpet, 
which  is  a  solid  piece  of  wood,  held  by  the  angel  at 
the  summit  of  the  northern  organ-case,  is  only  blown 
at  the  death  of  a  royal  person.  And  a  lady,  instead  of 
informing  her  friend  that  it  was  a  vox  humana  stop, 
called  it  a  vox  populi. 

We  were  asked  by  one,  "  Did  this  organ  break  the 
windows?  I  was  told  a  festival  service  was  going  on, 
the  organist  blew  the  trumpet  stop,  and  broke  the 
windows."  Another  inquiry  was,  "Who  invented 
the  pedals  of  this  organ?  We  were  told  that  quite 
a  youth  believed  that  pedals  would  improve  it.  He 
added  them,  and  to  the  day  of  his  death,  whenever 
he  was  within  a  few  miles  of  Yarmouth,  he  would 
come  and  hear  them."  In  our  hearing  one  man 
informed  another  that  "this  organ  has  miles  of 
piping  running  somewhere  about  the  town  under- 
ground." The  queries  we  have  had  to  answer  have 
been  exceedingly  numerous.  Looking  at  the  en- 
closure containing  the  console  of  the  organ,  a  visitor 
wished  to  know  whether  the  organist  sat  inside  there. 
Another  asked  whether  it  was  the  vestry.  One  who 
saw  great  possibilities  in  such  an  organ  inquired, 


LONGEVITY   AND    HEREDITY  325 

"Can  he  play  this  organ  in  any  other  place  beside 
the  key-board?"  The  pulpit  being  of  so  unique  a 
character  has  had  a  full  share  of  attention,  and  no  lack 
of  admirers.  Gazing  at  it  with  eyes  filled  with  wonder- 
ment, a  woman  said  to  her  daughter,  "  Maria,  you're 
not  to  touch  not  even  the  pews."  Everything  within 
sight  of  such  a  structure  she  held  sacred.  Astonished 
at  its  internal  capacity,  another  asked,  "Do  all  the 
clergy  sit  in  it?"  Not  realising  its  true  character  and 
intent,  a  lady  wished  to  know,  "By  whom  was  this 
monument  erected?"  As  we  had  long  since  ascer- 
tained how  impossible  it  was  to  please  everybody,  we 
were  not  surprised  to  find  dissatisfied  critics  presenting 
themselves.  One  of  this  class  said,  "It  looks  like 
a  tomb,  and  smells  like  a  coffin."  Another,  with 
sarcastic  wit,  said,  "Moses  looks  like  some  church- 
warden who  would  have  to  be  careful  how  he  ate  his 
soup."  We  append  a  few  more  questions  we  have 
had  to  answer : 

"  Was  this  church  built  by  St.  Nicholas?" 
"  Does  this  church  stand  in  four  parishes?" 
"  How   many   miles   is  it  round  the  walls  of  this 
church?" 

"  How  many  does  this  hold?   We  were  told  it  holds 
12,000." 

A   clergyman  asked,    "Where  are  the   bells?    Are 
they  in  the  tower?" 

"  Haven't  you  a  Bible  3000  years  old?" 
"Haven't   you    a    Bible    that  turns    over   its  own 
leaves?" 

"Who  had  the  missing  leaves  of  this  (Cranmer's) 

Bible?" 

"Is  this  the  Bible  that  was  chained  in  Brentwood 

Church?" 


326  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

A  lady  pointing  to  the  font  asked,  "  Is  that  the 
Communion  Table?  " 

An  elderly  lady  at  the  brass  lectern  inquired,  "Is 
this  the  clerk's  seat?" 

A  man  standing  looking  over  the  Communion  rails 
wished  to  know,  "  What  part  of  the  church  do  you  call 
this?" 

"  Was  one  of  the  giants  buried  in  the  churchyard?" 

"Where  is  the  gravestone  where  a  man,  his  wife, 
and  twenty-five  children  were  buried?  I  saw  it  when  I 
was  here  some  years  ago,  and  forget  on  which  side  of 
the  church  it  is." 

A  young  man  gazing  at  the  top  of  the  lofty  flagstaff 
just  inside  the  churchyard  gates,  asked,  "Was  that 
erected  to  the  memory  of  a  shipwrecked  crew  ?  " 

With  such  extraordinary  exhibitions  of  blatant 
ignorance  can  a  worthy  clerk  regale  himself,  but  they 
must  be  very  trying  at  times. 

Mr.  Lupson  has  also  written  The  Friendly  Guide  to  the 
Parish  Church  and  other  places  of  interest  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood^ The  Rows  of  Great  Yarmouth;  why  so 
constructed,  and  some  devotional  works. 

He  is  also  the  author  of  the  following  additional 
verse  to  the  National  Anthem,  sung  on  the  occasion 
of  the  Diamond  Jubilee  of  Queen  Victoria  : 

"  Long  life  our  Queen  has  seen: 
Glorious  her  reign  has  been  : 

Secure  her  throne  ! 
Her  subjects'  joy  and  pride, 
God's  Word  be  still  her  guide  : 
Long  may  she  yet  abide 

Empress  and  Queen  !  " 

The  sons  of  parish  clerks  have  softftetimes  attained 
to  high  dignity  in  the  Church.  The  clerk  of  Totnes, 
Devonshire,  had  a  son  who  was  born  in  1718,  and 


THE   DEACON-CLERKS   OF   BARNSTAPLE     327 

who  became  the  distinguished  author  and  theologian, 
Dr.  Kennicott.  On  one  occasion  he  went  to  preach  at 
the  church  in  his  native  village,  where  his  father  was 
still  acting  as  clerk.  The  old  man  insisted  upon  per- 
forming his  accustomed  duties,  placing  the  surplice  or 
black  gown  on  his  son's  shoulders,  and  sitting  below 
him  in  the  clerk's  lowly  desk.  The  mother  of  the 
scholar  was  so  overcome  with  joy  at  hearing  him 
preach,  that  she  fainted  and  was  carried  out  of  the 
church  insensible.  Cuthbert  Bede  records  that  he  was 
acquainted  with  two  eminent  clergymen  who  were  the 
sons  of  parish  clerks.  One  of  them  was  a  learned 
professor  of  a  college  and  an  author  of  repute,  and  the 
other  was  attended  by  his  father  in  the  same  manner  as 
Dr.  Kennicott  was  by  his. 

Sometimes  our  failures  are  the  stepping-stones  to 
success  in  life.  The  celebrated  Dr.  Prideaux,  Regius 
Professor  of  Divinity  at  Oxford  and  Bishop  ot 
Worcester  in  1641,  was  the  son  of  poor  parents  at 
Harford,  near  Totnes.  He  applied  for  the  post  of 
parish  clerk  at  Ugborough,  but  failed  to  obtain  the 
appointment.  He  was  much  disappointed,  and  in 
despair  wandered  to  Oxford,  where  he  became  a  servitor 
at  Exeter  College,  and  ultimately  attained  to  the  position 
of  rector  or  head  of  his  college.  When  he  became 
bishop,  he  was  accustomed  to  say,  "  If  I  could  have 
been  clerk  of  Ugborough,  I  had  never  been  bishop  of 
Worcester." 

The  history  of  the  clerks  of  Barnstaple  (1500-1900) 
has  been  traced  by  the  Rev.  J.  F.  Chanter,1  and  the 
record  is  remarkable  as  showing  their  important  status, 
and  how  some  were  raised  to  the  diaconate,  and  in 

1   Transactions  of  (he  Devonshire  Association  for  the  Advancement  of 
Science,  Literature,  and  Art,  1904,  xxxvi.  pp.  39O-4'4- 


328  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

difficult  times  rendered  good  service  to  the  Church  and 
the  incumbents.  The  first  clerk  of  whom  any  trace 
can  be  found  was  Thomas  Hunt  (1540-68).  He 
appears  in  the  register  books  as  clericus  de  hoc  opido, 
and  in  the  churchwardens'  accounts  for  1564  there  is 
an  entry,  "  Item  to  Hunt  the  clerke  paid  for  lights 
2S.  8d."  He  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  John  Hunt 
(1564-84).  Robert  Langdon  flourished  as  clerk  from 
1584  to  1625,  when  spiritual  matters  were  at  a  low  ebb 
in  the  parish.  The  vicar  was  excommunicated  in  1589. 
His  successor  quickly  resigned,  and  the  next  vicar  was 
soon  involved  in  feuds  with  some  of  his  puritanically 
inclined  parishioners.  The  quarrel  was  increased  by 
the  unworthy  conduct  of  Robert  Smyth,  a  preacher 
and  lecturer  who  was  appointed  and  paid  by  the 
corporation,  and  cared  little  for  vicar  or  bishop.  He 
was  an  extreme  Puritan,  and  had  a  considerable  follow- 
ing in  the  parish.  His  refusal  to  wear  a  surplice, 
though  ordered  to  do  so  by  the  bishop,  brought  the 
dispute  to  a  head.  He  was  inhibited,  but  his  followers 
retorted  by  accusing  the  vicar  of  being  a  companion  of 
tipplers  and  fooling  away  his  time  with  pipe  and  tabor, 
and  finally  bringing  an  accusation  against  him,  on 
account  of  which  the  poor  man  was  cited  before  the 
High  Commission  Court.  The  charge  came  to  nothing, 
and  Smyth  for  a  time  conformed  and  wore  his  surplice. 
Then  some  of  the  Puritan  faction  refused  to  accept  the 
vicar's  ministrations,  and  two  of  them  were  tried  at 
the  assizes  and  sent  to  gaol.  "If  they  would  rather 
go  to  gaol  than  church,"  said  the  town  clerk,  "  much 
good  may  it  do  them.  I  am  not  of  their  mind." 
Passive  resisters  were  not  encouraged  in  those  days. 
But  the  relations  between  vicar  and  lecturer  continued 
strained,  and  the  former  bethought  him  of  his  faithful 


THE   DEACON-CLERKS   OF   BARNSTAPLE     329 

clerk,  Robert  Langdon,  as  a  helper  in  the  ministry. 
He  applied  to  the  bishop  to  raise  him  to  the  diaconate, 
and  this  was  done,  Langdon  being  ordained  deacon  on 
21  September,  1606,  by  William  Cotton,  Bishop  of 
Exeter.  The  record  of  this  notable  event,  the  ordina- 
tion of  a  parish  clerk,  thus  appears  in  the  ordination 
register  of  the  diocese  : 

"  In  festo  Matthaei  Apostoli  Dominus  Episcopus  in  ecclesia 
parochial!  de  Silfertone  xximo  die  Septembris  1606  ordines 
sacros  celebrando  ordinavit,  sequuntur  Diaconi  tune  et 
ibidinem  ordinati  videlicet  Robertus  Langdon  de  Barne- 
stapli." 

Langdon  remained  parish  clerk  and  deacon  nineteen 
years,  and  the  register  contained  the  record  of  his 
burial,  "Robert  Langdon  deacon  5th  July  1625."  He 
seems  to  have  brought  peace  to  the  troubled  mind  of 
his  vicar,  whose  tombstone  declares  : 

"  Many  are  the  troubles  of  the  Righteous 
But  the  Lord  delivereth  out  of  all." 

Langdon  used  to  keep  the  registers,  and  he  began 
to  record  in  them  a  series  of  notes  on  passing  events 
which  add  greatly  to  the  interest  of  such  volumes. 
Thus  we  find  an  account  of  a  grievous  fire  at  Tiverton 
'n  !595>  a  violent  storm  at  Barnstaple  in  1606,  and  a 
great  frost  in  the  same  year  ;  another  fire  at  Tiverton  in 
1612,  and  the  scraps  of  Latin  which  appear  show  that 
he  was  a  man  of  some  education. 

Anthony  Baker  reigned  from  1625  to  1646,  who  had 
also  been  ordained  deacon  prior  to  his  appointment  to 
Barnstaple,  and  belonged  to  an  old  yeoman  family. 
He  was  popular  with  the  people,  who  presented  him 
with  a  new  gown.  He  saw  the  suspension  of  his  vicar 
by  the  Standing  Committee,  and  probably  died  of  the 
Y  2 


330  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

plague  in  1646,  when  the  town  found  itself  without 
vicar,  deacon,  or  clerk.  The  plague  was  raging, 
people  dying,  and  no  one  to  minister  to  them.  No 
clergyman  would  come  save  the  old  vicar,  Martyn 
Blake,  who  was  at  length  allowed  by  the  Puritan  rulers 
to  return,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  inhabitants.  He 
appointed  Symon  Sloby  (1647-81),  but  could  not  get 
him  ordained  deacon,  as  bishops  and  ordination  were 
abhorred  and  abolished  by  the  Puritan  rulers.  Sloby 
was  appointed  "  Register  of  Barnestapell  "  during  the 
Commonwealth  period.  He  saw  his  vicar  ejected  and 
carried  off  to  Exeter  by  some  of  the  Parliamentary 
troopers  and  subsequently  restored  to  the  living,  and 
records  with  much  joy  and  loyalty  the  restoration  of 
the  monarchy.  He  served  three  successive  vicars, 
records  many  items  of  interest,  including  certain  gifts 
to  himself  with  a  pious  wish  for  others  to  go  and  do 
likewise,  and  died  in  a  good  old  age. 

Richard  Sleeper  succeeded  him  in  1682,  and  reigned 
till  1698.  He  conformed  to  the  more  modern  style  of 
clerk  of  an  important  parish,  a  dignified  official  who 
attended  the  vicar  and  performed  his  duties  on  Sunday, 
occupying  the  clerk's  desk.  Of  his  successors  history 
records  little  save  their  names.  William  Bawden,  a 
weaver,  was  clerk  from  1708  to  1726,  William  Evans 
1726  to  1741,  John  Taylor  1741  to  1760,  John  Comer 
1760  to  1786,  John  Shapcote  1786  to  1795,  Joseph  Kimp- 
land  1795  to  1798,  who  was  a  member  of  an  old  Barn- 
staple  family  and  was  succeeded  by  his  son  John 
(1798-1832),  John  Thorne  (1832-1859),  John  Hartnoll 
(1859-1883),  and  William  Youings  1883  to  1901. 

This  is  a  remarkable  record,  and  it  would  be  well  if 
in  all  parishes  a  list  of  clerks,  with  as  much  information 
as  the  industrious  inquirer  can  collect,  could  be  so 


THE   DEACON-CLERKS   OF   BARNSTAPLE     331 

satisfactorily  drawn  up  and  recorded,  as  Mr.  Chanter 
has  so  successfully  done  for  Barnstaple.  The  quaint 
notes  in  the  registers  written  by  the  clerk  give  some 
sort  of  key  to  his  character,  and  the  recollections  of  the 
oldest  inhabitants  might  be  set  down  who  can  tell  us 
something  of  the  life  and  character  of  those  who  have 
lived  in  more  modern  times.  We  sometimes  record  in 
our  churches  the  names  of  the  bishops  of  the  see,  and 
of  the  incumbents  of  the  parish  ;  perhaps  a  list  of  the 
humbler  but  no  less  faithful  servants  of  the  Church,  the 
parish  clerks,  might  be  added.  - 

Often  can  we  learn  much  from  them  of  old-world 
manners,  superstitions,  folk-lore,  and  the  curious  form 
of  worship  practised  in  the  days  of  our  forefathers. 
My  own  clerk  is  a  great  authority  on  the  lore  of  ancient 
days,  of  bygone  hard  winters,  of  weather-lore,  of  the 
Russian  war  time,  and  of  the  ways  of  the  itinerant 
choir  and  orchestra,  of  which  he  was  the  noted  leader. 
Strange  and  curious  carols  did  he  and  his  sons  and 
friends  sing  for  us  on  Christmas  Eve,  the  words  and 
music  of  which  have  been  handed  down  from  father  to 
son  for  several  generations,  and  have  somewhat  suffered 
in  their  course.  His  grandson  still  performs  for  us  the 
Christmas  Mumming  Play.  The  clerk  is  seventy  years 
of  age,  and  succeeded  his  father  some  forty  years  ago. 
Save  for  "  bad  legs,"  the  curse  of  the  rustic,  he  is  still 
hale  and  hearty,  and  in  spite  of  an  organ  and  sur- 
pliced  choir,  his  powerful  voice  still  sounds  with  a 
resonant  "Amen."  Never  does  he  miss  a  Sunday 
service. 

We  owe  much  to  our  faithful  clerks.  Let  us  revere 
their  memories.  They  are  a  most  interesting  race,  and 
your  "Amen  clerk"  is  often  more  celebrated  and  better 
known  than  the  rector,  vicar,  patron  or  squire.  The 


332  THE   PARISH    CLERK 

irreverence,  of  which  we  have  given  many  alarming  in- 
stances, was  the  irreverence  of  the  times  in  which  they 
lived,  of  the  bad  old  days  of  pluralist  rectors  and  itiner- 
ant clerics,  when  the  Church  was  asleep  and  preparing 
to  die  with  what  dignity  she  could.  We  may  not  blame 
the  humble  servitor  for  the  faults  and  failings  of  his 
masters  and  for  the  carelessness  and  depravity  of  his 
age.  We  cannot  judge  his  homely  ways  by  the  higher 
standard  of  ceremonial  and  worship  to  which  we  have 
become  accustomed.  Charity  shall  hide  from  us  his 
defects,  while  we  continue  to  admire  the  virtues,  faith- 
fulness and  devotion  to  duty  of  the  old  parish  clerk,  who 
retains  a  warm  place  in  our  hearts  and  is  tenderly  and 
affectionately  remembered  by  the  elder  generation  of 
English  Churchpeople. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 
CONCLUSION 

r  I  ^HE  passing  of  the  parish  clerk  causes  many  re- 
J.  flections.  For  a  thousand  years  he  has  held  an 
important  position  in  our  churches.  We  have  seen 
him  robed  in  his  ancient  dignity,  a  zealous  and 
honoured  official,  without  whose  aid  the  services  of  the 
Church  could  scarcely  have  been  carried  on.  In  post- 
Reformation  times  he  continued  his  career  without 
losing  his  rank  or  status,  his  dignity  or  usefulness. 
We  have  seen  him  the  life  and  mainstay  of  the  village 
music,  the  instructor  of  young  clerics,  the  upholder  of 
ancient  customs  and  old-established  usages.  We  have 
regretted  the  decay  in  his  education,  his  irreverence 
and  absurdities,  and  have  amused  ourselves  with  the 
stories  of  his  quaint  ways  and  strange  eccentricities. 
His  unseemly  conduct  was  the  fault  of  the  dullness, 
deadness,  and  irreverence  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived, 
rather  than  of  his  own  personal  defects.  In  spite  of 
all  that  can  be  said  against  him,  he  was  often  a  very 
faithful,  loyal,  pious,  and  worthy  man. 

His  place  knows  him  no  more  in  many  churches. 
We  have  a  black-gowned  verger  in  our  towns ;  a 
humble  temple-sweeper  in  our  villages.  The  only 
civil  right  which  he  retains  is  that  the  prospectors 
of  new  railways  are  obliged  to  deposit  their  plans  and 

333 


334  THE   PARISH   CLERK 

maps  with  him,  and  well  do  I  remember  the  indignation 
of  my  own  parish  clerk  when  the  plans  of  a  proposed 
railway,  addressed  to  "the  Parish  Clerk,"  were  delivered 
by  the  postman  to  the  clerk  of  the  Parish  Council.  It 
was  a  wrong  that  could  scarcely  be  righted. 

I  would  venture  to  suggest,  in  conclusion,  that  it 
might  be  worth  while  for  the  authorities  of  the  Church 
to  consider  the  possibility  of  a  revival  of  the  office.  It 
would  be  a  great  advantage  to  the  Church  to  restore 
the  parish  clerk  to  his  former  important  position,  and 
to  endeavour  to  obtain  more  learned  and  able  men  for 
the  discharge  of  the  duties.  The  office  might  be  made 
again  a  sphere  of  training  for  those  who  wish  to  take 
Holy  Orders,  wherein  a  young  man  might  be  thoroughly 
educated  in  the  duties  of  the  clerical  profession.  It 
would  be  an  immense  assistance  to  an  incumbent  to 
have  an  active  and  educated  layman  associated  with 
him  in  the  work  of  the  parish,  in  teaching,  in  reading 
and  serving  in  church,  and  in  visiting  the  sick.  Like 
the  clerk  of  old,  he  would  be  studying  and  preparing 
for  ordination,  and  there  could  be  no  better  school  for 
training  than  actual  parish  work  under  the  supervision 
of  an  earnest  and  wise  rector. 

The  Church  has  witnessed  vast  changes  and  im- 
provements during  the  last  fifty  years.  The  poor  clerk 
has  been  left  to  look  after  himself.  The  revival  of  the 
office  and  an  improvement  in  the  position  and  education 
of  the  holders  of  it  would,  I  fully  believe,  be  of  an 
immense  advantage  to  the  Church  and  a  most  valuable 
assistance  to  the  clergy. 


INDEX 


Absolon,  Chaucer's  portrait  of,  26 
,,        David,  clerk  of  Great  Yar- 
mouth, 185 

"  Acts,"  a  Christian  name,  264 

Addison,  on  clerks,  64 

Advent,  a  carol  for,  168 

"  Ales,"  clerk's,  42 

Allington,  Kent,  230 

Alnwick,  Turner,  clerk  of,  232 

"  Amen  "  epitaph,  97 

Ancient  Mysteries,  137 

Andrews,  W.,  Curious  Epitaphs,  100 
,,          ,,     Curiosities    of    the 
Church,  188 

Antiquity  of  clerk's  office,  16,  etc. 

Apostles,  complimenting  the,  265 

Appointment,  the  right  of,  246 

Aquitbajalus,  2J 

Arms  of  the  Company  of  Clerks,  III 

Art  of  Politicks,  184 

Art,  the  clerk  in,  195,  etc. 

Ashford,  Isaac,  the  story  of,  68 

Aston,  Yorks,  5 

Astronomical  clerks,  209,  258 

Atchley,  Dr.  Cuthbert,  49 

Atkinson,  Rev.  Canon,  302,  303 

Atkins,  Thomas  of  Chillenden,  236 

Augustine  of  Canterbury,  St.,  16,  35 

Avington,  female  clerk  at,  202 

Badger,  H.  W.,  of  Marlow,  319 
Baker,  Anthony,  deacon-clerk,  329 
Bakewell,  the  lioe  family  of,  93 
Barkham,  143,  312,  331 
Barnet,  East,  clerk  of,  60 
Barnstaple,  clerks  of,  61,  327 
Barrel-organs,  5 
Barton  Turf,  Norfolk,  dog-whipper's 

land  at,  34 

Beating  the  bounds  at  Ringmer,  34 
Bede  Roll  of  the  Company,  113 


Bede,  Cuthbert,  91,  161, 201,  317,  327 
Bells  to  warn  travellers,  83 
Belbroughton,  96 
Belts  Life,  in  the  pulpit,  231 
Belton,  Suffolk,  Noah  Pole,  clerk  of, 

3" 

Bennet,  John,  of  Woodstock,  163 
Beresford  Hope  on  old  services,  8, 

170 
Besant,   Sir  W.,  description  of  old 

clerk,  21 

Bilby,  Thomas,  author  of  hymn,  154 
Bills  of  Mortality,  123 
Bingley,  Hezekiah  Briggs,  of,  loo 
Bletchley,  clerk  of,  59 
Bly,  Sarah,  sexton,  201 
"Bobber,"  or  sluggard-waker,  204 
Bond  family  of  Worcester,  318 
Boniface,    Archbishop,   constitutions 

of,  30 

Borne,  Hooker's  parish,  24 
Borough,  The,  by  G.  Crabbe,  66 
Bradford-on-Avon,  158,  194 
Bramwells  of  Chapel-en-le-Frith,  319 
Bristol,  St.  Nicholas,  28,  50 
Broadway,  the  Tustins  of,  318 
Bromfield,  Salop,  280 
Bromham,  the  clerk  of,  190 
Bromsgrove,  Rose  family  of,  318 
Burrows,  Mrs.,  recollections  of,  283 
Buxted,  clerk  of,  55 

Caistor,  Lincolnshire,  227 

Calculating  clerk,  a,  211 

Cambridgeshire  curate,  a,  15 

Canes  in  churches,  190 

Canterbury,  Guild  of  Clerks  at,  105 

Carley,  Thomas,  of  Grafton  Under- 
wood, 152 

Came,  James,  oldest  living  parish 
clerk,  319 


335 


336 


THE   PARISH   CLERK 


Carshalton,  register  of,  141 

Catechising,  228 

Catechising  in  church  by  the  clerk, 

59,.  274 

Catwick,  Thomas  Dixon,  of,  206 
Celibacy  of  clerks,  18 
Chanter,   Rev.  J.    F.,  on  clerks  of 

Barnstaple,  327 
Chapel-en-le-Frith,  319 
Chappie,   William,  of  Swymbridge, 

174 

Charman  Dean,  smuggling  at,  84 
Charters  of  Company  of  Clerks,  106, 

109 
Chaucer's  portrait  of  frivolous  clerk, 

26 

Cheshire  clerk,  an  old,  225 
Chess  in  a  village,  242 
Chester,  plays  at,  134 

„        Sir     Robert,     spoliator     of 

Clerks'  Company,  108 
Chillenden,  Kent,  236 
Choirs,  old-time,  i,  3,  4,  198,  213 
"  Chosen  people,"  235 
Church,  description  of  an  old,  I 
Churching  of  women,  231 
Churchwardens'  Account  books,  19 
Clark,  John,  the   register   book  of, 

MS 

Clarke,  John,  III 

Clarkson,  David,  of  Feckenham,  318 
Claverley,  Shropshire,  188 
Clergy,  defective  readers,  58 
Clerk's  ale,  42 

,,      house,  33 
Clerk's  Book,  7 he,  52,  248 
Clerks,  too  clerical,  79,  etc. 
Clerk's  Latin,  242 
Clerkenwell  and  clerks'  plays,   130, 

etc. 
Clerkship,   stepping-stone   to  higher 

preferment,  32 
Coaching  days,  241 
Collis  family  of  clerks,  91 
Collumpton,  female  clerk  at,  202 
Company  of  parish  clerks,  104,  etc. 
Cornish  parsons,  180 
Cornish  wreckers,  84 
Coronation  changes   in    the    Prayer 

Book,  314 

Council  of  Merida,  17 
,,  Toledo,  17 

Court,  George,  of  Wednesbury,  289 
Coventry,  Trinity  Church,  28,  36,  50 


Coventry,  plays  at,  134 
Cowper's  mortuary  verses,  69 

,,         The  Sofa,  71 

,,         The  Task,  184 
Crabbe's  sketch  of  old  clerics,  13 

,,  ,,       „    ,,    clerks,  66 

Crayford,   Kent,    "Amen"    epitaph 

at,  97 

Cromer,  David  Vial  of,  92 
Cropthorne,  Worcestershire,  IO2 
Crosthwaite  and  catechising,  277 
Curious  stories,  307,  etc. 

Dagenham  and  its  clerk,  313 

Dean,  West,  Sussex,  233 

Decline  of  clerks,  6 1 

Decorating  the  church,  193 

Deputations,  217 

Descent  into  Hell,  136 

Dickenson,     Thomas,     licensed     to 

officiate,  81 

Dicker,  Robert,  of  Crediton,  257 
Diggs,  David,  6,  58,  162 
Dismissing  a  clerk,  247,  250 
Dixon,  Thomas,  a  curious  character, 

206 

Dog,  an  archbishop's,  189 
Dogs  fighting  in  church,  85 
Dog- wrappers,  34,  188 
Dogs  lost,  notices  of,  176 

,,     in  churches,  189 
Duke's  present  of  game,  a,  177 
Dunstable,  20 
Dunstan,  St.,  16 

Easter  cakes,  41 
Eastham,  clerk  of,  55 
Ecclesfield,  clerks  at,  298 
Eccleshall's  cricketing  clerk,  182 
Ecclesiastical  Law,  by  Sir  R.  Philli- 

more,  247 

Edgar,  King,  canons  of,  16 
Elliott,  Rev.  E.  K.,  recollections  of, 

83 

Elmstead,  49 

Elton,  Miss,  recollections  of,  292 
Epitaphs  of  clerks,  90,  etc. 
Epworth  and  John  Wesley,  193 
Ethelbert,  King,  16 
Evison,  Thomas,  of  Wragsby,  281 
Exeter,  Synod  of,  17 

Faithfulness  of  clerks,  23 
Fairfield,  So 


INDEX 


337 


Fasting  Communion,  a  tradition,  237 

Faversham,  28,  45,  50 

Feckenham,  318 

Feudal  customs,  284 

Fewson,    Richard,   a  curious  clerk. 

208 

Fielding's  clerics,  1 1 
Fighting  in  church,  49,  279 
Finch,  Betty,  "bobber,"  204 
Flore,  carol  by  the  clerk  of,  167 
Ford  family  of  King's  Norton,   IO2, 

3l8 

Foster,  Joshua,  of  Caistor,  227 
Foston-le-Clay  and   Sydney   Smith, 

216 

Fressingfield,  clerk's  house  at,  34 
Frith's  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  199 
Funerals,  London  clerks  at,  1 16 

,,         old  time,  218,  222 
Furness,  Richard,  clerk  of  Dore,  164 

Gadara,  swine  of,  238 

Gainsborough's  portrait  of  Orpin,  195 

Gargrave,  York,  157 

Gay  s  allusion  to  clerks,  72 

George  IV  and  Queen  Caroline,  183 

Ghost  story,  313 

Gill,    Mrs.,    recollections    of,    170, 

278 

"  God  speed  'em  well,"  215,  230 
Goldsmith's  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  12 
Goose  in  the  pulpit,  266 
Grafton  Underwood,  152 
Gray,  John,  clerk  at  Eton  College, 
Green,  Rev.  W.  F. ,  recollections  of, 

293 

Gregory  IX,  decretals  of,  17 

Gregory  Smith,  Rev.  Canon,  recol- 
lections of,  315 

Grindal,  Archbishop,  injunctions  of, 
S4,8o 

Grosseteste,  Bishop,  17 

Guild  of  Clerks,  18,  104,  etc. 

Guinea-fowls,  disturbing  congrega- 
tion, 261 

Gunpowder  Piot,  161 

Iladdon,  West,  91 

Halls  of  the  Clerks'  Company,  107, 

no,  etc. 

"  Harmun,"  a  Christian  name,  263 
Hartlepool,  clerk  of,  59 
Harvey,  Christopher,  63 
Haw  of  Ilalton  Holgate,  236 


Hawker,  Rev.  R.  S.,  recollections  of, 

85,  313 

Hayes,  disgraceful  scenes  at,  187 
Hebrew  scholar,  a,  323 
Hemmans,  Rev.  Canon,  recollections 

of,  281 
Herbert,  George,  on  responding,  68 

»  11       clerk  of  Eye,  93 

Heredity  of  the  clerk's  office,  318 
Hincmar,  Archbishop  of  Rheims,  17 
Hinton,  William,  a  Wilts  clerk,  239 
Hobbes,  William,  clerk  at  Plymouth, 

25 

Hobby,  a  matrimonial,  315 
Hogarth's  Sleeping  Congregation,  131 
Holy  loaf,  38,  etc. 

,,     water,  27 
Hone's  Year  Book  and  Book  of  Days, 

87,  99 

Hooker,  the  Judicious,  24 
Hopkins,  John,  clerk  at  Salisbury, 

162 

Houses  for  clerks,  33 
How,  Bishop  Walsham,  recollections 

of,  298 

Hust,  Richard,  portrait  of,  III 
Hutchinson,   F.,  a  Yorkshire  clerk, 

302 

Hutton,  William,  verses  by,  73 
Huyk,  John,  of  Hull,  35 
Hymn  in  praise  of  William  III,  1 60 

Illuminated  MSS.,  197 
Ingenious  clerk,  an,  259 
Ingham,  James,  of  Whalley,  236 

Jachin,  the  story  of,  66 

Jenkins,   Rev.    M.   E.,   recollections 

of,  302 

Jenner's  "Mount  Sion,"  185 
Jerry  and   the  "Northern   Lights," 

218 

John  of  Althon,  32,  49 
Johnson's  definition  and  opinion  of 

clerks,  66 

Kennicott,  Dr.,  a  clerk's  son,  326 
Kent,  John,  clerk  of  St.  Albans,  87 
Kenwyn,  dogs  fighting  in  church,  85 
Kilbrogan,  Ireland,  159 
King's  Norton,  the  Fords  of,  102,  318 

Lainston,  romance  of  parish  register 
of,  151 


THE   PARISH    CLERK 


Langdon,  Robert,  deacon-clerk,  329 
Langhorne,   Rev.    W.    H.,    recollec- 
tions of,  231 
Langport,  Somerset,  41 
Laracor,  Meath,  180 
Latin,  a  clerk's,  242 
Lavant,  East,  Russell  of,  260 
Law  and  the  clerk,  the,  245,  etc. 
Lawton,  Cheshire,  225 
Leckhampton,  235 
"Leg  end,  the,"  282 
Legg,  Dr.  J.  Wickham,  52,  169,  248 
Legge,  Rev.  A.  G.,  recollections  of, 

259,  265 

Lessons,  right  of  reading,  53 
Licence  granted  to  clerk  to  officiate, 

81 

Liston,  Essex,  286 
Literature,  the  clerk  in,  63,  etc. 
London,  St.  Peter-the-Less,  35 

„        St.  Stephen,  Coleman Street, 

46,  142 
,,        St.   Michael,    Cornhill,    50, 

Iti 
,,        St.  Margaret,  Westminster, 

S3,  200 

the  clerks  of,  115,  etc. 
Guildhall  chapel,  115 
St.  Margaret,  Lothbury,  142 
Lambeth  parish,  147 
Battersea,  147 
St.  Mary's,  Islington,  154 
St.       Matthew's      Chapel, 

Spring  Gardens,  191 
, ,        parishes,  129 
Longevity  of  clerks,  318 
Lowestoft,  Suffolk,  Newson  of,  311 
Lupson,   E.  J. ,  of  Great  Yarmouth, 

320 

Lyndewoode,    William,    on  married 
clerks,  18,  35,  49 

Machyn's  Diary,  r  1 7 

Maldon,  Essex,  a  curious  letter,  309 

Mangotsfield,  Bamford,  clerk  of,  230 

Marlow,  Bucks,  319 

Marriage  Act  of  1653,  8l 

Marriages  by  clerks,  81 

Matthew  Paris,  43 

Maundy  Thursday,  37 

Maybrick,    William,    and   his    sons, 

308 

Mediaeval  clerk,  31,  etc. 
Milston,  clerk  at,  64 


Milverton,  Somerset,  41,  59 
Moody,  clerk  at  Redbourn,  172 
More,  Sir  Thomas,  32,  109 
Morebath,  dispute  at,  29 
Mortality,  Bills  of,  123 
Morwenstow  and  its  ghost  story,  313 
Myrc,   John,    instructions   to   parish 
priests,  45 

New  Remarks  of  London,  127 
Newport  Pagnell,  Bucks,  285 
Northampton,  All  Saints,  69 
"Northern  Lights,"  217 
Notices,  the  clerk  giving  out,  169,  etc. 
,,       curious,  270 

Oldswinford,  the  Orfords  of,  318 
Orchestra,  village,  4,  213 
Orpin,  portrait  by  Gainsborough,  195 
Osbornes  of  Belbroughton,  96 
Overy,  St.  Mary,  80 

Pageantry  of  clerks,  119 

Pall  used  as  horsecloth,  295 

The  Parish  Clerk,  a  new  comic  song, 

73 

Parish  Clerk's  Guide,  The,  46,  57 
Parish  Clerk,  by  Hewett,  6,  58,  162 
Parish  Clerks,  Some  Account  of,  by 

J.  Christie,  107 

Parish  Register,  The,  by  Crabbe,  67 
Parish  registers  and  the  clerks,  140 

etc. 

Parish  Registers,  History  of,  148 
Parsons,  old-time,  I,  10-15 
Parson  and  Clerk,  rocks  so  named, 

86 

Pattishall,  clerk's  register  of,  145 
Perquisites  of  clerks,  41 
Pews,  old-fashioned,  2 
Pierce,   Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells 

43 

Plague  in  London,  125 
Playford,  John,  56 
Plays  performed  by  clerks,  131,  etc. 
Pluralism,  evil  effects  of,  14 
Plymouth,  St.  Andrew,  25 
Poet,  the  clerk  as  a,  154,  etc. 
Poor  rates  levied  on  the  altar,  268 
Pope,  Alexander,  Memoir  of  P.  P., 

75 

Portraits  in  the  hall  of  the  Company, 

112 

Prideaux,  Dr.,  327 


INDEX 


339 


Priestly,   Peter,  clerk  of  Wakefield, 

86 

Printing  press,  the  clerks',  125 
Pup  wanted,  a,  317 
Puritanism,  effects  of,  7 

Radcliffe,  Lancashire,  304 

Radcliffe-on-Sour,  100 

Railways,  the  advent  of,  242 

Raw,   Frank,   of  Selby,  epitaph  of, 
100 

Rawsley,  Miss,  recollections  of,  236 
„         Canon,  story  told  by,  313 

Reading,  duty  of,  48,  etc. 

Reading,  St.  Giles,  19,  33,  45 
,,  St.  Lawrence,  21,  39 
„  St.  Mary,  33,  39 

Rectorts  chori,  36 

Recollections  of  old  clerks,  255,  etc. 

Redbourn,  Herts,  172 

Reeve,  Rev.  E.  H.  L.,  recollections 
of,  286 

Reformation  changes,  51 

Rempstone,  wages  of  clerk  at,  248 

"  Responding  inaudibly,"  307 

Revival  of  office  of  clerk,  334 

Rex  v.  Erasmus  Warren,  251 

Richard  I  as  rector  chori,  32 

Ringmer,  34 

Rival  clerks,  49,  211,  279 

Rivington  family,  127 

Robinson,  Daniel,  of  Flore,  167 

Rochester  and  its  parish  register,  150 

Rochester,  Earl  of,  epigram  by,  3 

Roe  family  at  Bakewell,  93 

Rom  ford,  307 

Roper,    William,    of   Clerks'    Com- 
pany, 109 

Rose  family  of  Bromsgrove,  318 

Rugby,  St.  Andrew,  91 

Russell,  Rev.  J.,  of  Swymbridge,  174 
„        clerk  of  East  Lavant,  260 

St.  Albans,  clerk  of,  87 

St.  Columb  Minor,  Cornwall,  320 

St.  Nicholas,  patron  saint  of  clerks, 

105 

Salehurst,  wages  of  clerk,  249 
Salisbury,  St.  Edmund,  clerk  s  house 

at,  34 

,,          John  Hopkins  of,  162 
Saltwood,  Kent,  clerk's  house  at,  34 
Sapiston  and  the  Duke's  hare,  17? 
Scarlett,  Old,  of  Peterborough,  98 


Schoolmaster,  clerk  as,  44 
Scothorne,  Blackburn's  epitaph,  103 
Selwyn,   Rev.  W.,  recollections  of, 

279 

Sermon  forgotten,  287 
Sexton  and  clerk,  22,  64,  253 
Shakespeare's  allusion  to  clerks,  63 
Shenley,  Rogers  of,  92 
Sherlock,  F.,  recollections  of,  308 
Shoes  in  church,  226 
Sidbury,  clerk  of,  59 
Singing,  duty  of,  48,  etc. 

,,        efforts  to  improve,  121 
Skinners'  Well,  131 
Sleeping  Congregationt  by  Hogarth 

181 
Sleepy  church  and  sleepy  clerks,  179, 

etc. 

Sluggard-waker,  187 
Smuggling  days  and  smuggling  ways, 

79,  83,  etc. 

Smoking  in  church,  228,  295,  303 
Snell,  Peter,  of  Cray  ford,  97 
Soberton,  Hants,  smuggling  at,  84 
Social  Life  as  told  by  Parish  Registers, 

142,  148 
Solomon  Daisy  of  Barnaby  Rudge, 

72 

Song  during  the  sermon,  a,  292 
Spectator,  The,  64,  65 
Spoliation  of  Clerks'  Company,  108 
Sporting  parsons,  171,  269 

,,        clerks,  211 
Squire's  pew,  the,  2 
Stanford-in-the-Vale,  Berks,  40 
Staple-next-Wingham,  101 
Sternhold  and  llopkins's  Psalter,  3 
Stoke,  300 

Story,  Robert,  poet,  157 
Stoulton,  epitaph  at,  103 
Stratfieldsaye,  300,  305 
Surplices  objected  to,  118 
Swanscombe,  Kent,  8 
Swift  on  old  pews,  2 

,,     and  his  clerk  Roger,  180 
Syntax,  Dr.,  14 

Tail,  Archbishop,  on  old  services,  8 
Teeth,  story  of  "artful,"  174 
Tennyson's  allusion  to  clerks,  72 
Tenterden,  John  Hopton  of,  80 
Thame,  curious  banns  at,  316 
Thirza,  a  Christian  name,  282 
Tingrith  and  its  potentate,  283 


340 


THE   PARISH   CLERK 


Totnes,  Devon,  326 
Tourists'  queries,  321 
Town  crier  as  clerk,  293 
Tunbridge  Wells,  Jenner's  "  Mount 
Sion,"  185 

Uffington,  Salop,  299 
Upton,  near  Droitwich,  179 

Venables,  Rev.  Canon,  recollections 

of,  267 

Verney,  Lady,  Essays  and  Tales,  74 
Vickers,  Rev.  W.  V.,  recollections  of, 

2.55 
Visitation  of  the  sick,  46 

Wages  of  clerks,  248 

Wakefield,  87 

Walker,  Rev.  Robert,  the  "Wonder- 
ful," it 

Waltham,  79 

,,        Holy  Cross,  81 

Walton,  Isaac,  story  of  faithful  clerk, 
24 

Warrington  and  its  "bobber,"  204 

Way    to  find   Sunday    without    an 
Almanack,  The,  73 

Webster's  Village  Choir,  198 

Wednesbury,  145,  191,  289 

Wesley  and  his  clerk,  193 

Westbere,  79 

Westhoughton,  305 

Westley,  228 

Whalley,  clerk  at,  236 

Wheatley,  female  clerk  at,  202 

Whitewashed  church,  a,  295 

Whittingdon,  Thomas  Evans  of,  92 

"Wicked  man,  the,"  256 

Wilberforce,Bishop,  on  squire's  pew,  2 


Willoughton,  Betty  Wells  of,  203 
Wills  containing  bequests  to  clerks, 

?x 
Wimborne  Minster,  55,  233 

Windermere,  clerk  of,  230 

Wise,  Mr.,  of  Weekley,  recollections 

of,  292 

Witch  as  parish  clerk,  203 
Woburn,  J.  Brewer  of,  293 
Wolstanton,  299 
Wolverley,  Worcestershire,  96 
Women  as  parish  clerks,  200,  etc. 

,,        as  sextons,  254 
Woodmancote,  old  clerk  at,  233 
Woodstock,  J.  Bennet,  clerk  of,  163 
Wootton,  Paul,  clerk  at  Bromham, 

190 
Worcester,  St.  Michael,  clerk's  house 

at,  34 
Worcester,    St.    Michael,    the   Bond 

family  of,  318 
Wordsworth,     on    the    "Wonderful 

Walker,"  li 

Workington  and  its  beadle,  299 
Worrall  family  of  Wolverley,  96 
Worthing,  smuggling  at,  83 
Worth,  John  Alcorn  of,  101 
Wragby,  clerk  of,  281 
Wren,  William,  of  Stondon  Massey, 

287 

Yarmouth,  Great,  the  clerk  of,  320 
York,  mystery  plays  at,  133 
Yorkshire  clerks,  206,  etc.,  302 
Young,  Rev.  J.  C.,  recollections  of, 
239 

"Zulphur,"  a  Christian  name,  258 


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